


hey, i heard you say...

by kaaogami (ghoulnoace)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Background Relationships, Light Angst, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-09-10 21:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 69,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8940409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulnoace/pseuds/kaaogami
Summary: ‘You absolutely suck at basketball. I really, really hate your smile and your stupid laugh. I don’t care about you and I don’t like you. I wish you never showed up in my life. Fuck you.’ He sees the other's mouth form the words and he hears it, not only through his ears, but also echoing in his head.And he smiles. Finally, the truth.----------Where people hear in their head every lie that passes their soulmate’s lips.





	1. broken windows

**Author's Note:**

> ~~I'm a sucker for soulmate AUs!~~
> 
>  
> 
> A ** on the spaces denotes a small time change; the events before and after happen on the same day. A line break denotes some significant time skip.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He is seven when he gets his first clear memory of the voice.

He is seven when he gets his first clear memory of the voice.

<I broke the window! It wasn’t her, oba-san!>

He’s sitting on the living room floor in front of the TV, eating popcorn and watching a film about talking toys when he startles at the sudden shout. It’s the voice of another boy – young and panicky and on the verge of tears – so loud and close that he feels it ringing in his ears, in his head.

He’s alone in the room, and the window is _not_ broken. Who was – ?

There’s suddenly a weird, growing feeling of tightness around his chest. He’s nervous and afraid, but he can’t explain why. It’s strange, though, like the feelings are coming from so far away, somewhere _not from_ _him,_ and before he knows it, he’s already rubbing at his eyes, trying to stop the heavy tears running down his cheeks, sobs uncontrollable and loud.

His parents come barging in then, worried and confused, asking him what’s wrong. But all he is able to stutter out through his hiccupping breaths are broken ‘ _I don’t know’_ s.

He feels hands carding gently through his hair, his mother’s presence a soothing balm to his fear, but the tears don’t stop.

“I d-don’t know w-what’s happening, Mom – _hic_ _–_ there was a voice, and t-then he – ”

“What do you mean? What voice? You’re alone here – ”

“I heard it in my head, Mom! He said he broke the window and that it wasn’t _her_ fault!” He’s crying even harder now, upset at the _voice_ sounding upset _and_ afraid, and he doesn’t understand it. Somehow though, he knows that the tears are all his own now.

His parents share a look (which he will only later realize as one of alarm and then knowing) and then, with a tinkling laugh, his mother pulls him close and hugs him tight. She whispers in his ear, her voice so very happy:

“Don’t be afraid. That’s the voice of your soulmate, Taiga.”

 

* * *

 

<Ugly. I don’t want to play with you!>

Taiga almost drops the game he’s playing in surprise. It’s been more than a month, but he’s still not completely used to hearing the voice in his head.

 _‘You’ll hear their voice whenever they lie and you’ll feel what they’re currently feeling,’_ his mother had explained after he had calmed down that day. _‘You’re_ _crying because they’re crying and_ _also because you don’t want them to cry anymore_ _.’_

 _‘What’s a soulmate?’_ he had asked, and his mother smiled at him.

_‘The person made for you, who will complete you as much as you’ll complete them. They will be your special person. Only you will really know for sure if your soulmate is telling the truth or not. I think it’s sweet; you’ll never doubt that they love you very much.’_

It still doesn’t really make any sense to him, this soulmate thing, and most of the time he finds the voice more annoying than the wonderful thing his mother described it as. He hears it at random moments and it makes him feel things he isn’t really feeling, which gets very confusing very fast.

<Ugh. You’re such a pain!>

Oh, and his so-called soulmate is such a… a _jerk!_ He’s mean and not very polite, and he lies about almost everything! Taiga would never have lied about a dog eating his homework, or about not eating the cookies in the cookie jar, or about not wetting the bed. He doesn’t understand how someone who lies about those things is 'made for him.'

He’s just glad that it hasn’t gotten as bad as that time in the living room. He may die from embarrassment if he suddenly breaks down crying in the middle of class because his _soulmate_ is a big crybaby afraid of bees.

But sometimes… sometimes Taiga remembers him saying he broke a window he didn’t really break, saying _‘You can have it, I’m not hungry’, ‘I wasn’t worried, stupid!’,_ and now:

<Fine, I’ll play with you but only for a little while!>

… and Taiga thinks his soulmate isn’t such a bad person after all. Only sometimes though.

 

* * *

 

“It doesn’t hurt, Mom.”

His mother frowns and gives him a look of disbelief. “I don’t need to hear your voice in my head to know you’re lying, Taiga.”

“I just don’t want you to worry. And it’s embarrassing,” he mumbles into the sheets.

“Getting a call from the hospital telling me that my son was bitten by a dog on the butt and that he’d need stitches already made me worry. _Stop squirming,_ ” his mother tugs lightly at his ear. “And don’t worry, Taiga. Scars make a guy look cool.”

“Not if it’s on my butt!”

“You never know, maybe your soulmate will like it,” his mother says in a teasing tone.

“Why would I show my butt to my – Oh! _Ow, ow, ow._ Mom, I know his name! I was playing tag with the others and – ”

“What are you doing? Lie back down on your stomach!”

Taiga grumbles but does as he’s told. “His name’s Dai-chan, Mom! It sounds just like mine!” He got so excited about it too that he ran back home and stepped on the dog napping outside the playground (the dog wasn’t too happy about that).

Instead of being loudly happy like he thought she would be, his mother just looks unsure. “How did you know? What exactly did he say?”

 _“You know I don’t like being called Dai-chan!”_ he repeats in his soulmate’s – Dai-chan’s – high-pitched tone.

His mother laughs, and Taiga delights at the sound of it. “So cute! Your soulmate is such a tsundere, Taiga!”

“What’s a tsundere?”

“Oh, never mind that. _So._ Dai-chan.” She sits on the bed beside him and Taiga moves closer, laying his head on her lap sideways. “Short for Daisuke, maybe? Or Daichi. Oh, or maybe Daigorou!”

He shudders. “That sounds weird.” No, it sounds _wrong._

“Daigorou is an honorable name for a man. Though you’re right, it doesn’t sound cute.” Her mother hums as she strokes Taiga’s hair. “But you’re lucky he’s so shy! Some people won’t even know their soulmate’s name until they’ve met them.”

“But why? If they say that it’s not their name, won’t their soulmate hear it?” he asks, confused.

“I don’t know why, but it doesn’t work that way. You can’t let your soulmate know your name by saying that you’re not Kagami Taiga.”

“Why not? That sucks!” He was planning on doing that! This soulmate thing sucks big time. “I wanted him to know my name, too,” he sighs.

His mother pats his head. “He’ll know it someday, don’t worry. Or, you know, you can also say that you don’t like being called Tai-chan.”

“But I do hate it when you call me that, Mom,” Taiga whines.

“Then say that you love being called Tai-chan!”

“I don’t want to! You can’t make me say it even if it’s a lie!” He pushes at the hands ruffling playfully through his hair, hiding the smile on his face against his mother’s tummy and snuggling closer to her warmth.

Taiga loves being together with his mother like this, teasing each other and laughing and just having fun. They don’t get to do it often anymore, so his mother always makes an effort to be with him as much as possible. Having a soulmate is starting to sound exciting to him, but no matter what she says about it, his mother will remain his most special person forever.

He’s sure of it.

 

* * *

 

It’s nearing the end of winter when his teacher excuses him from class. He doesn’t say why, and they walk to the principal’s office in silence.

When they get there, a man he vaguely recognizes as Tanaka-san, a close friend of his parents, greets him and says something about going to the hospital.

“Do you have your coat and bag?”

“Yes. Why are we going to the hospital?” Taiga asks as he puts his coat and scarf on. It’s still very cold outside.

Tanaka-san doesn’t reply. He turns instead to his teacher and they talk briefly before he nudges Taiga out of the office, guiding him out of the school and into a parked car.

His hand on Taiga’s shoulder doesn’t stop shaking.

In the hospital, he sees his father standing beside a policeman and a doctor.

They're speaking in low voices, but he hears them even over the constant buzz of noise in the hallway.

They're saying things about a slippery road and faulty breaks and injuries and massive bleeding, and Taiga’s mind goes blank.

He suddenly doesn’t want to be here.

"I want to see Mom," he whispers, but nobody hears him.

 

* * *

 

He is eight when he and his father set foot in a new country, leaving behind a now empty house and a box below the ground.

“Ready, Taiga?” his father says beside him, his hand atop Taiga’s head gentle and warm.

Taiga looks at his father’s face, at the deep lines on his forehead and the forced smile on his lips, and thinks how those weren’t there a month ago. He thinks of her last words – ‘ _Take care of each other’,_ about a boy and broken windows, of what if’s and what now’s, and says with a calm he’s not feeling, “Yes, Dad. I’m excited to see America.”

If it’s a lie… well, that’s okay. Only his soulmate will know anyway.

 


	2. heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm happy."

A few months pass.

Life in L.A. is… not exactly excellent. Taiga’s still getting used to a lot of things, like the people and the weather and the fact that he’s no longer in Japan and it’s just him and his father now.

(It’s hard. He still cries himself to sleep most nights.)

He’s also trying to learn English. _Trying,_ because English is really, really _weird_  and complicated _._ He easily gets lost in the back-and-forth of native speakers, their speech a quick jumble of words that only sound like gibberish to his ears. He would sometimes try to start conversations with his classmates, but he either embarrasses himself or gets so frustrated that he thinks he’s scaring them away instead.

Because of that, and with his father busy with work and some of the kids making fun of his accent and his eyebrows, he finds himself alone most of the time, walking down streets he wonders will ever stop being unfamiliar.

But it’s okay. The voice in his head keeps him company and reminds him of a connection with a person made for him, of Dai-chan and his small, mostly harmless and stupid white lies. He’s actually never been happier that Dai-chan has a penchant for lying about almost everything. It just means that Taiga gets to hear him more often, which brings him relief now when before it used to only annoy him.

Because now… now he understands that there are people who no longer see their soulmates in person, let alone hear them in their head. He remembers Dad, how he looks so lonely sometimes, so alone even when Taiga is right there beside him.

So Taiga treasures his soulmate’s voice, his words, and waits for the day he’ll be back in Japan again. Waits for a _someday_ or a _maybe soon,_ when they will finally meet and be each other’s special person.

For the time being, he does his best and learns how to cook, not only because his father is totally horrible at it, but also because with every recipe of her mother’s he makes, he feels lighter, closer to her in some way. His father’s smiles, too, have become more and more real.

Living in L.A. is not excellent, but he hopes it’s going to be okay.

 

* * *

 

<I don’t need your help, Satsuki!>

Taiga’s lying in the dark of the apartment staring at the ceiling and waiting for sleep to come when he feels a wave of embarrassment and irritation wash over him. It’s something that's become familiar, even expected. He smiles, and wonders what Dai-chan’s lying about this time.

And not for the first time, he wonders who Satsuki is.

It’s a name Taiga’s heard through the bond (his mother had called it that and he still thinks it’s corny) a couple of times now. It’s a girl’s name, obviously. A cutesy girl’s name.

Was she Dai-chan’s sister? A neighbor? Well, whatever they were, they seem to really get along well. After all, she still hangs out with him even when he’s being unnecessarily mean, and he hangs out with her even when he sometimes finds her annoying.

Taiga’s smile falls off his lips. He’s glad Dai-chan isn’t alone like he is, he really is. Sometimes though (like tonight)... sometimes he wishes that he has someone like Satsuki too.

 _I’m not jealous,_ he thinks but doesn’t say, because he knows Dai-chan – miles away in Japan – will surely hear it.

Taiga doesn't want him to know how sad he really is.

 

* * *

 

Then, he meets Tatsuya –

“Hey, we’re shorthanded. Want to come and join us for a game of basketball?”

– and it marks the beginning of something new and exciting.

In the months that follow, Taiga learns how to play basketball, meets many acquaintances and a few friends, gains a brother and matching rings, meets Alex who reminds him so, so much of his mother and whose praises and hair ruffles he finds he keeps on craving, gets even better at basketball and acquires a few scrapes and bruises in the process, then tastes his first defeat in the hands of the local playground bully.

The very next day, Taiga challenges him to a rematch. He wins and then promptly gets into his first fist fight, which he also wins, because basketball wasn't the only thing that Tatsuya taught him.

He comes home later with a bloody lip and scraped knuckles, only to be welcomed by his father’s stern face.

“He punched me first,” he blurts out before he even gets the chance to take his shoes off.

“Did he really?”

“Um, no,” he mumbles towards his father's slippers. “I did, because he was being mean to me and Tatsuya,” he admits, voice small. His father doesn’t have a knack for knowing when he lies, like his mother does, but he has a way of speaking and staring that makes Taiga guilty enough to say the truth anyway.

His father sighs, then leads him to the bathroom where the first aid kit is. “Do you like basketball, Taiga?” he asks as he runs Taiga’s hands under the tap water.

He flinches from the cold and the sting but keeps his hands still. “Yes, I like it. Tatsuya says I’m good at it.”

“I see.” His father smiles, but turns serious again as he inspects the wounds on Taiga’s fists. “Then don’t you think you should avoid injuring your hands like this? Won’t dribbling and shooting the ball be hard for you now?”

“I… I didn’t…” He really didn’t think at all. The kid just started calling him and Tatsuya names and Taiga got so angry he couldn’t stop himself from punching the bully on the face. “Does it mean I won’t be able to play anymore?” 

His father chuckles at Taiga’s worried look. “No, you can still play. _After_ you’re grounded for a week.”

“Why?” he knows he’s pouting, but he can’t help it. He was going to go play with Tatsuya tomorrow!

“Because you shouldn’t punch people. Your mother… your mother taught you better than that.”

His father casually moves to wipe the blood off Taiga’s lips, like he didn’t just freeze for a second or two and get noticeably gloomy afterwards.

Taiga remembers his mother, and says, “Okay, I won’t anymore. But if they’re really, really being an asshole – ”

“ _Taiga!”_

“– then I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my promise. Mom also taught me that I should always protect people I love and to not take crap from anyone,” he says with the cheekiest tone he can muster.

His father looks at him with a scandalized expression before he bursts out laughing. “She did, didn’t she?” he says, voice soft and fond. “And where did you pick up the A-word, young man?”

“Tatsuya,” he whispers, sending a mental _sorry_ to wherever his brother is.

“That brat. How about you invite him over for dinner after school tomorrow so that I can give him a piece of my mind?”

“Okay. Can I invite Alex too so Tatsuya won’t be suspicious?”

“Of course. I’ve been wanting to meet her too.”

Taiga smiles at his father, feeling relieved, and he smiles back.

They take care of each other.

The next evening, his father teasingly berates him and Tatsuya over their bowls of curry, while Alex laughs and Tatsuya throws Taiga threatening not-smiles whenever his father’s not looking.

Taiga grins throughout the night. Their small apartment, in this foreign country, with these people, is finally starting to feel like home.

**

Later, when he’s lying in bed with his heart light and his belly full, he lets the words past his lips for the first time in a while:

“I’m happy.”

It sounds true this time.

 


	3. first words to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does it mean when someone lies about being fine?

“Hey, Tatsuya?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your soulmate like?”

Tatsuya looks up from tying his shoes and gives him a questioning look. “Why do you ask?”

“Well…” he hesitates. It’s not something that’s come up before because, as embarrassing as it sounds, any talk about soulmates between them – and Alex, too – has always been about _Taiga’s_. “I was just curious. You know almost every stupid lie mine has said.”

“That’s true. You’ve always found it hard to keep your mouth shut about _Dai-chan_ ,” Tatsuya says in a teasing tone.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, feeling his cheeks redden. “And I no longer call him that. We're no longer kids and, well, the nickname doesn’t really fit him now.”

It really doesn’t. Taiga can’t remember when it started, but his soulmate’s voice had changed from the familiar high-pitched tone he had heard for the last seven years, to a lower timbre that can’t really be called cute anymore. So he dropped the ‘chan’ and just calls him ‘Dai’ now.

Tatsuya gives a thoughtful hum, but Taiga knows he’s still amused. “Well, all I know about my soulmate is that he always lies about stealing more food. That’s all he ever lies about, every day. He sounds like a petulant child, actually.”

“Is he a glutton or something?” he snickers.

“You really aren’t in a position to talk, Taiga. You eat an inhuman amount of food too.”

“Hey. I eat normally.”

“You really don’t,” his brother argues. “But, anyway, why’d you suddenly want to know about my soulmate?”

Taiga chucks the ball in his hand towards the hoop, watching as it hits the rim and bounces away. He runs to get it and, mostly, to stall. He suddenly doesn’t know how to ask what he wants to ask.

“Well, there’s this girl from my school, a year higher than me. Earlier, she uh, asked me out?”

“Oh.”

Tatsuya doesn’t really sound surprised. It figures, because Alex, the gossiper that she is, has told anyone who would listen that ever since turning fourteen, Taiga has gotten a lot of confessions from girls “taking a chance to find out if he’s their soulmate or not.” She always sounds like a proud parent whenever she does that, saying things like 'my boy has finally grown up.' _Embarrassing._

Taiga grabs the ball before it can roll off to the street and then trots back. “Yeah. Um. I said no. I told her that I knew she wasn’t my soulmate and that I didn’t want to lead her on.”

He looks at Tatsuya, and the other inclines his head, a silent sign for him to continue.

“She laughed… said she didn’t want to be my girlfriend or anything. She said she just wanted to try having… um…” he falters and drops his gaze to his scuffed shoes, hoping that Tatsuya just _gets it._

“Try having what?” Tatsuya asks, his tone suggesting that he knows what Taiga’s talking about but also that he doesn’t want to say it himself.

Ugh. Why can’t Tatsuya just make this easier for him?! Taiga shoots him a glare and then looks away. He won’t be surprised if his cheeks are turning as red as his hair now. This is so mortifying!

“S-sex! She said she wanted to have sex with me!”

“Whoa, Taiga. I heard you the first time. You don’t have to brag about it,” Tatsuya chuckles.

“I’m not! Do teenagers here really think about doing that stuff already? I wasn't even her soulmate!”

“I was just kidding,” Tatsuya says, raising both hands in a calming gesture. “But you know things are different here than it is in Japan. People are really forward here.”

Taiga does know that. Once, a girl tried to kiss him and it was only through his quick reflexes that he managed to back away, muttering apologies over his shoulder as he ran away. He doesn’t get the fascination the female student body suddenly has towards him, and it terrifies him sometimes, to be honest.

“And Alex said it, didn’t she?” Tatsuya takes the ball from him and dribbles it in place as he continues. “Not everyone likes the idea of ending up with someone they don’t even have a say on. Some soulmate pairs don’t even have a romantic bond, and not every person ends up with their soulmate. So it’s really not surprising that there are people who want to try _stuff_ with others before they get tied down.”

Taiga deflates. He _knows_ these. It’s just that… he’s grown up with soulbonded parents who love each other very much. So much that he still catches his father staring longingly at his mother’s pictures when he thinks Taiga’s already asleep.

He… he wants something like that.

“Is it weird though? Waiting for your soulmate, I mean. And, um, not just for _that stuff._ Don’t _you_ want to be with yours, Tatsuya?”

“Of course I do. I don’t think it’s weird,” Tatsuya replies, his smile small and genuine. “If you want to wait, then wait. You should do what you feel is right.”

Instantly, Taiga feels relief flood him at Tatsuya’s words. He’s right. Taiga’s not wrong, or weird, for wanting something special with his soulmate, with Dai.

Not for the first time, he feels glad that he and Tatsuya met. He thinks things would have been very different without the rings around their necks, a symbol of their brotherhood.

Tatsuya’s smile then turns into a smirk. “Dai-chan’s really lucky to have you as a soulmate, isn’t he?”

“Shut up,” he grouses. “And thanks.” With a grin, he lunges forward, stealing the ball from under Tatsuya’s hand just as the other players trudge into the court.

_“Hey guys! Sorry we’re late!”_

_“No problem!”_ Taiga shouts back in English, then turns to Tatsuya. “Ready to get beaten this time, bro?”

Tatsuya grins back in challenge and moves towards his team’s side of the court. “You wish, little brother!”

They play, and almost an hour later, Taiga scores another hard-won victory.

They’re now at forty-nine wins each.

 

* * *

 

The count doesn’t make it to fifty.

 

* * *

 

_“Are you okay?”_

_“I… Alex, I don’t understand. We were fine last week. But then yesterday, he… Tatsuya said…_ ”

_If I lose the next game, I won’t call you my little brother again._

He trails off and slumps against the brick wall. He’s suddenly feeling tired and very dazed. He’d been punched in the face before, but never like that. Never from Tatsuya.

It hurts so fucking much.

Alex crouches and snaps her fingers in front of him, making him focus on her face, on her worried eyes. They’re far from the red of his mother’s, but they calm him just the same.

_“I’m sure he didn’t mean – ”_

_“He did,”_ he interrupts her as he grips his ring. He remembers vividly the way Tatsuya snapped the chain around his own neck, how he dangled it in front of Taiga’s face.

 _“… I’m sorry this happened,”_ Alex says as she puts a hand on his shoulder. _“But you shouldn’t give up. It will take more than this to drive you two apart.”_

He knows, deep in his heart, that she’s right. They’re brothers. But what the hell is he supposed to do? Winning is out of the question, and losing feels like the wrong option too.

It feels like he’ll lose Tatsuya no matter the outcome of the next match. That is, he thinks miserably, if he hasn’t already.

 

* * *

 

He spends the next few days avoiding the street courts. After school, he goes straight home, stares at the ceiling, and thinks of how not to lose a brother.

He’s running away, like a coward. Exactly the opposite of what Tatsuya told him not to do. And it weighs on his conscience, makes him lose sleep and makes him gloomy, irritable, and absolutely confused. He just wishes somebody can tell him what to do.

Unfortunately, before he can come to a decision, thoughts of Tatsuya and their failing friendship gets wiped from his mind in the most unexpected way possible.

He’s on his way to Alex’s when he hears it. The low timbre is made even more unfamiliar by the somber tone, something heavy and muted accompanying the words.

<Nah... It’s nothing, Tetsu. It doesn’t matter.>

He has never heard Dai sound like _that_ before. Through the bond, his soulmate has sounded embarrassed, offended, irritated, but always _bright_ and _lively._ With the exception of the first time Taiga heard him, he has never sounded sad, nor troubled.

A feeling of unexplained, unsettling dread comes over Taiga then. And it doesn’t go away, even days later.

It gets worse.

 

* * *

 

<I _said_ I’m fine. > Angry.

 

< _I’m_ _fine_. > Disappointed.

 

<I’m _fine_. > Sad.

 

<I’m fine.> … _He’s not._

 

* * *

 

What does it mean when someone lies about being fine? What does it mean when, every time they say it, the feelings get more and more bleak, _hopeless?_

And Taiga, he doesn’t know what to do. What _can_ he do, when he’s _here_ and there’s miles and miles of land and sea between him and his soulmate?

Never before has he loathed the distance this much.

<It doesn’t matter.>

His tone is bored, uninterested, but the feelings were anything but. Like he doesn’t really believe the words he is saying and is voicing them only because he wants someone to contradict him. To prove him wrong.

_Sad but still hoping._

Taiga blurts out in the silence of his room:

“I’m not worried about you, Dai-chan.”

 

**

 

An hour later, he hears a reply.

 


	4. other side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s on the verge of sleep when he thinks he hears something, a whisper, soft and hushed and comforting - and he smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS, almost 1.5k hits, 170+ kudos, and a bunch of very nice and sweet comments?! I'm speechless; this is a big deal for a little nobody like me!!! I can't thank you guys enough!! (〃ﾉωﾉ) (〃ﾉωﾉ)

“ – and then I told her that I didn’t want to taste her cooking again, or she’ll kill me for sure this time and – _Tetsu,_ ” he whines suddenly. “You’re not listening.”

The other boy startles, though Daiki only notices it because he dropped the food he had between his chopsticks. His expression when he looks back at him is sheepish, Daiki thinks. “I’m sorry, Aomine-kun. It’s just that… he’s being very noisy again.”

“Oh. Him again, huh?” Daiki glances around the courtyard, and sure enough, he sees a bright golden head surrounded by a bunch of chattering girls a short distance away. He hates to admit it, but it’s become a pretty common sight during lunchtime. “What’s pretty boy lying about this time? Got a hot date later so he wouldn’t be able to hang out with the pretty girls?”

“Please don’t call him that. Kise-kun doesn’t like it,” Tetsu says, tone slightly reproachful (and okay, he won’t, because an angry Tetsu should be avoided at all cost). “Though yes,” he continues almost hesitantly, “that’s exactly what he said.”

“What, really? Man, what a pretentious guy,” he mumbles through the last bite of bread he’s eating. “Good luck with that guy.”

Tetsu shoots him an unreadable look over his bentou. “Someday, I will say ‘good luck’ to your soulmate too, Aomine-kun. I think they would need it very much.”

“Oi,” he huffs, “what does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Tetsu says in a monotone, though one corner of his lips is clearly twitching. “Would you like to have the rest of my lunch?”

Daiki pounces on the offering like a dog that’s been starved for days on end. “ _Yes._ Your mum’s cooking is the best.”

“You’ll make auntie cry if she hears you say that.”

“Then don’t tell her!” he tries to say through his mouthful, but all that comes out are bits of tamagoyaki. Tetsu looks at him with thinly-veiled disgust, which he manages to ignore only because he’s had practice with Satsuki.

When the food’s gone and the bentou has been packed, he finds a soft patch of grass under the tree’s shade and lies down with his hands behind his head. If Satsuki was here, she’d be lecturing his ear off for sleeping with a full stomach, but she’s not here, _so_.

He’s almost drifting off when Tetsu speaks.

“Sometimes, I think of going up to him and telling him I’m his soulmate.”

Daiki opens his eyes and stares up at the canopy of leaves above him, fluttering and dancing in the wind. “Why don’t you?” he hesitates to ask, but he’s genuinely curious.

Tetsu had known about Kise being his soulmate within the first week of the blond joining the first string. Kise had burst in one day, late for practice and saying something about being held up by cleaning duties, and Tetsu just suddenly froze. Only Daiki, who was standing beside him, had noticed.

It’s been a couple of months since then. Tetsu seems like the type of person who talked about soulmates in the same breath as fate and destiny and shit like that. So yeah, Daiki doesn’t get this pining from a distance thing. If you knew the other was your soulmate, why not just tell them?

Tetsu hums, and in a soft voice Daiki’s not sure he’s meant to hear, he whispers, “It doesn’t feel like the right time yet.”

He wants to ask what Tetsu means, because really? He didn’t think he would hear something like that outside of his mother’s cheesy TV dramas. But before he has a chance to, something pink and bubbly rushes over to them, almost stomping on him in its – or rather, _her_ – haste.

“Satsuki! What the heck?” he shouts as he sits up, narrowly missing being stepped on the face.

“Tetsu-kun!”

But Satsuki, as usual, only has eyes for the other boy. Another thing he can’t understand. They both know she has no future there, because, well, Tetsu has the wrong _parts._

Daiki just sighs and rolls his eyes, used to her antics by now but still confused by it. He then catches sight of something poking out of the pocket of her sweater. Curious, he grabs the edge of it while Satsuki’s distracted and instantly grimaces at what he sees.

It’s a confession letter from Yamato of Class 2-B (he has to remember that when he goes to scare him off later). “Tch, another one? This is the third one this month.”

“Dai- Aomine-kun!”

There she goes again stuttering on that stupid nickname then calling him with his last. True, he’d been telling her to stop calling him that since they were kids, but he didn’t think she would actually _listen_.

In his annoyance, he doesn’t see the rolled up stack of paper before it comes and smacks him on the face.

“What the hell?!” he grits out, clutching at his nose.

“That’s what you get for being a nosy brute!” Satsuki says, fuming and pouting. “And now look at all these data I gathered for Akashi-kun! It’s wrinkled now.”

“And that’s worse than maybe breaking my nose or, I don’t know, stabbing me in the eye?” he asks, tone incredulous.

“Don’t be such a big baby,” she chides, sitting down on the grass beside him and picking up the letter he dropped earlier.

“You did deserve it Aomine-kun, looking at Momoi-san’s things without her permission,” Tetsu says from Satsuki’s other side.

“Not you too, Tetsu,” Daiki groans over the sounds of his childhood friend squealing in delight. “Why do you even accept those things when you’re just going to refuse them, Satsuki?”

“You won’t understand, Aomine-kun, you unromantic lout.”

“What did you call me – ”

“Kurokocchi! Momocchi! Aominecchi!” Kise’s voice rings from across the courtyard, loud and annoying, and a few seconds later he comes trotting over, bringing with him sparkles that seriously make Daiki’s head ache. He then situates himself between Satsuki and Tetsu and proceeds to chatter about one thing or the other.

Ugh. Now all his chances for a nice nap are ruined. Daiki instead leans back on his hands and looks at the three of them.

Satsuki is sitting beside him, listening to Kise but every now and then making googly eyes at Tetsu, even though she’d sworn since they were kids that she’ll only ever have eyes for her soulmate, which was _not_ Tetsu and definitely _not_ a boy. Tetsu, on the other hand, will never look at Satsuki, because he’s always so busy soaking up every little thing his blond soulmate is saying, and he doesn’t get caught looking only because of his very weak presence. And Kise, well, Kise has always seemed so flighty that everyone kind of expects him to just up and quit basketball before the schoolyear ends, not to mention that he’s always surrounded by his rabid fans that it’s hard to think that he’s even able to see anyone outside of that circle, especially someone that’s already barely noticeable in normal circumstances.

What a mess. The thing is, sooner or later, someone’s bound to get their feelings hurt. Satsuki, most probably, and he doesn’t know how to help avoid that. He doesn’t talk or think about _feelings_ and _soulmates._ For him, if he meets his so-called soulmate, then okay. If not, then whatever. For all he knows, the guy’s still in America, so it’s no use thinking about it anyway.

The only things he’ll ever willingly spend any amount of time and effort on are food, his growing Mai-chan collection, and basketball. And out of those three, he only really cares about the last. Because basketball’s simple, and most of all, it’s fun. There’s only the thrill of a good game and the excitement of winning against a challenging opponent.

For now, that’s more than enough for him.

 

* * *

 

The change isn’t exactly subtle, nor slow.

He’s aware that he’s better than the average player, quick on his feet and with a sense for the game that’s neither technical nor taught. Midorima likens him to an animal while on the court, and while he’s loath to agree with anything that comes out of the guy’s mouth, he can see where he gets the idea. When Daiki plays, he doesn’t think. Not about strategies or how to make the next shot. He just _moves_.

And he’s good at that; that’s why he’s the ace. However, he doesn’t just _remain_ good _._ Without ever meaning to, he’s become the _best._

He starts noticing it during the practice game where they played as backup for the second string.

That day, there’s an ease to his movements that hasn’t been there so readily before. Throughout the game, he weaves past blocks without a falter to his steps, breezes from the opposite paint with hardly a stutter to his breathing, and makes shots that wouldn’t have gone in if he wasn’t the one making it.

And when he scores his fiftieth point, he knows for a fact that something’s changed. He feels a buzzing under his skin, a fire in his veins.

He feels like he can’t lose.

 

* * *

 

And he doesn’t.

Weeks pass, games are played. It feels good, this power he can feel thrumming inside him. It lights up a spark in him, makes every game bright and alive.

The exhilarating feeling of it, however, doesn’t last long.

Because he wins, and he wins, and he wins some more. And each time it happens, he sees it more and more frequently: utter defeat on the slopes of their opponents’ shoulders, and the word, dripping with what could only be spite, on their lips:

_“Mons – ”_

He jerks his head to the side and walks away, dragging his feet and feeling the weight of their (his) victory settle heavily in his gut.

 

* * *

 

“Aomine-kun!”

“Oh, hey.”

“Is something the matter? You’re spacing out.”

“Mm.”

Tetsu takes his lack of a reply in stride. “I heard that you’ve been playing really well lately.”

He says it as an observation, but it’s clearly an invitation to talk, too. Daiki’s hardly closed off with his feelings and moods, so it’s no wonder that other people would notice something’s off with him lately, but for the other boy to get into the very heart of what’s been bothering him is a little creepy, but also strangely relieving.

Because he wants to tell Tetsu, he really does. He wants to get it off his chest, wants to say _‘Basketball’s getting boring,’_ and _‘I won’t play seriously anymore.’_ Or even _‘I’m afraid I’m getting too good and no one will want to play with me anymore. What should I do? I don’t know what to do.’_

“Well… I guess so. Hey…” he looks at the other boy, and he wants to say it. But at the very last moment something makes him hold his tongue and turn away, and what he says in the end is, “Nah… It’s nothing, Tetsu. It doesn’t matter.”

And later, Tetsu tells him, “Just because I know you were lying doesn’t you have to tell me about it. If you ever feel like talking, I’ll be here.”

He’s glad for the silent support, there but not overbearing, and so typical of Tetsu. It should have been enough, the knowledge that the other boy’s looking out for him in his own way and that he’ll listen whenever Daiki’s ready. And it was, at least for a little while.

But they just kept on winning, each shot he makes getting easier and easier than the last, so easy that sometimes he wonders – if he is to stand still from the free-throw line and throw the ball one-handedly, with his other hand on his hip and without even taking aim of the hoop, will it go in?

He’s almost afraid to try.

Before he knows it, he’s already skipping practice. One day of absence turns into two, three, until he loses count. Tetsu waits, Satsuki nags, more and more people notice, and some of them ask, “Are you okay?”

He always replies with an “I’m fine,” even though he knows he’s not; even though inside he’s angry and disappointed and sad. It’s directionless, these feelings, and he wishes it would just go away.

So after another disappointing game, when Tetsu finally talks to him about skipping practice one too many times, he blurts out – “It’s okay. If I practice more, I’ll become stronger. The harder I try, the more boring basketball becomes.” He hears the other boy call his name, but Daiki ignores it. “Well, whatever. In the end, basketball’s just a game. I’ll just put in enough effort to reach my quota and make the team win.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth though, he wants to take it back. What is he saying? Basketball used to be his _everything._ It was never _just_ a game. Did he really, truly, believe all of those things?

But then he remembers – the scoreboard, the resentment, and the whispers. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, trying to sound like he doesn’t care, trying to convince himself that it really doesn’t. Because if he believes it, then maybe he will stop hurting. Or maybe if he says it, someone – _anyone –_ will prove him wrong.

<I’m not worried about you, Dai-chan.>

He stops abruptly, almost missing the next step, and only the hand he has gripping on the railing saves him from tumbling down the footbridge. He stares, unseeing, at the space in front of him. And he wonders. How is it possible, that such words, surely aimed at him, simple and almost childish in its sincerity, is enough to shake him out of the dark cloud his mind’s been stuck in the last few weeks?

But then he feels something cold slithering down his back, and he almost falls down the stairs a second time.

“You can’t do that,” Tetsu says, voice stern.

“What the – ?!” he whirls around in surprise and outrage. “Did you put ice cream – ”

“For my part, it takes everything I got just to be able to keep up with everyone. So I can’t honestly say I understand what you’re going through now, Aomine-kun. However, no matter how unevenly matched we may be, if I was your opponent, I would never want you to take it easy on me or not do your best.”

“Tetsu…” Daiki looks up at the other boy, the one people have been calling the “shadow” to his light, and he thinks, not for the first time, how amazing Tetsu really is, how passionate and strong and kind he is behind the blank mask he’s taken to wearing. How sometimes, like today, he shines even brighter than any of them does.

“At any rate,” Tetsu continues, tone sure and firm, “I’m sure someone stronger than Aomine-kun will appear soon enough.”

**

Later, he comes home to an empty house and a note on the dining room table.

_‘Daiki, we’re working late tonight. I left food in the fridge. You can just heat it up for dinner. Love, Mom’_

He leaves the piece of paper where it is, grabs a banana milk from the fridge, and goes up to his room. When he’s cleaned up the mess Tetsu made of his back, changed out of his uniform, and chucked the empty milk carton in his trash can, he lies down on his bed and thinks.

 _‘I’m not worried about you, Dai-chan,’_ the voice had said. Daiki may not hear him that often, but the voice, gentle and gruff, is familiar. And he knows the words were for him; the other boy has even called him by his name. How did he even know – ?

“Ah, shit,” he mumbles, suddenly remembering. He might have heard it when Daiki had lied about hating the stupid nickname when he was younger. Stupid Satsuki.

Besides the fact he called his name and actually _talked_ to him, Daiki had felt through the bond that he was genuinely worried. That he actually _cared._ And he doesn’t understand why he would. It’s not like they know each other; they haven’t even met before. All they are to each other are voices and projected feelings, forced to hear each other lie because some unknown entity thought it was a good idea to tie people’s lives, or souls or whatever, together without even asking if they want to first.

He just doesn’t get it. He’s used to Satsuki, and even Tetsu, worrying about him, but their asking if he was fine hasn’t done much in getting him out of the dumps he knew he was (and maybe still is) in. So why did a single sentence of sincere concern from a complete stranger lift him up, jolt him out of his gloomy thoughts even better than the ice cream shoved down his back and the reassurance Tetsu gave him did?

He feels warm and, strangely, very light. Like he’s okay now or is, at least, going to be okay again. And then he knows, suddenly and without a doubt, that he needs to say something back.

“I… uh…” But what the hell is he going to say?! Why is he finding this even harder than talking to Satsuki or Tetsu?!

“Thanks?” he tries, but then realizes that that’s not a lie, so it wouldn’t be heard on the other side. So what now? _‘I’m not grateful’_? Ugh, no way; he would sound like Akashi.

He grumbles to himself and glares out the window besides the bed, at the colors the setting sun is casting on the sky. He watches the hues of reds bleed to the dark of the night, and when he sees the last slash of crimson get swallowed up by the blue of the night sky, he brings up an arm to cover his eyes. He tests the words on his lips, not giving voice to it yet.

“Hey…” he starts, pauses, then continues before he makes himself back out of it, “I’m not sorry I worried you. I didn’t mean to. Uh… I mean, I did it on purpose? Well, anyway, I… don’t appreciate it, what you said.” Shit, why is this so complicated? He dismisses the thought that this would have been easier if they were face to face as soon he thinks it, because no way is he going to say sappy feelings shit to anyone’s face.

Then he says, without any input from his brain, “I don’t want to meet you.” He sits up, startled, then promptly falls back on the bed, curls up on his side, and attempts to suffocate himself using his blanket.

“No, I don’t mean that. I was joking. Ugh, shit! I hate you, whoever you are,” he mutters, then bites his lip to stop any more nonsense babbling. He figures he’s embarrassed himself enough.

<I’m, uh, not glad you sound like yourself again. And I don’t… uh, want to meet you too.> Comes the voice a moment later, awkward and relieved but mostly happy, and Daiki buries his face in the cotton of his pillow. He hasn’t been expecting a reply, so the words caught him off guard. He’s not smiling and he’s definitely not blushing. He’s just… sleepy.

So he closes his eyes, and it’s like all that’s happened that day catches up to him and he suddenly feels tired. Not the kind of tired he gets after a rigorous practice or game, with every muscle sore and tender; or the kind that he’s felt the last few weeks, heavy and dark and like he doesn’t want to move or do anything at all; but the tired that feels good, that makes him sigh and burrow further into his bed, makes him think and hope that tomorrow will be a good day.

He’s on the verge of sleep when he thinks he hears something, a whisper, soft and hushed and comforting –

<I hate you too, Dai-chan.>

– and he smiles. That night he sleeps peacefully, like he hasn’t in what feels like a long time.

 


	5. break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He _doesn’t._

When Daiki opens his eyes next, it’s to sunlight streaming in through the windows of his room. He blinks, eyes still heavy from sleep, and turns around, expecting to hear his alarm wailing or Satsuki yelling at him to wake up. But it’s quiet and there’s no one else there, only the faint chirping of birds and the occasional passing of vehicles from outside interrupting the stillness of the early morning.

He sits up and looks out the window, at the curtains that aren’t drawn closed. Did he forget to close them last night? That’s weird, his foggy mind thinks, because he doesn’t like waking up in the morning to the sun shining on his face.

Well, whatever. He slept a good sleep and he feels oddly relaxed, without the urge to go right back to dreamland like he usually does. Instead, he wants to _move._ So he stretches, gets out of bed and heads towards the bathroom down the hallway.

He takes a quick shower, not bothering with the bath, and it’s only when he’s brushing his teeth does he remember last night. He watches as the water drains down the sink. Did last night really happen? It feels a little unreal in the bright light of the morning. Like a dream. He wonders whether they really did talk yesterday. Whether he really did hear those soft-spoken words as he drifted off to sleep.

_‘I hate you too, Dai-chan.’_

He leaves the bathroom without looking at the mirror. He doesn’t want to see how red his face has gotten.

**

“You’re awake.”

Daiki looks up from his slouch on top of his desk to see Midorima standing beside him, clutching a clothes hanger on one hand. He barely raises an eyebrow at the other’s antics anymore, but really? A clothes hanger?

He decides the next second that it’s not worth wasting his breath over and just asks, “Is that a question?”

“A statement of surprise. I only ever see you awake during break and club practice,” Midorima says, tone managing to sound impressed and condescending at the same time.

“Whatever,” Daiki drawls, thinking their conversation over, but Midorima doesn’t move. “What?”

Midorima does his glasses thing and stares at him some more. “Yesterday, Virgo was ranked quite low in Oho-Asa. There was a slight possibility of bodily harm. I told Kuroko that your lucky item was a popsicle stick, and it seems that it worked since you are still alive today. And awake.”

“ _Hah?”_

“Oho-Asa also predicted that Virgos would have a fateful exchange with their soulmate that day. Did you?”

Daiki straightens up at that. “No!”

Midorima frowns at him. “Oho-Asa does not lie. Which means you’re lying or you didn’t realize that you were having a fateful exchange with your soulmate.” A pause. “Which makes you an idiot.”

“ _You –_ ”

“Here, your lucky item.” Midorima places a brightly-wrapped candy on his desk, and he says, tone self-satisfied, “So you don’t waste your lu–”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t eat it!”

Daiki smirks around the hard candy, feeling vindictive. The next period teacher chooses that moment to enter the classroom, and Midorima has no choice but to silently fume and stomp to the desk behind him. As soon as the teacher speaks, he frowns, tunes her out, sprawls on his chair, and looks out the window.

He feels restless. It _is_ unusual for him to be upright and not sleeping over his desk during this time of the day, and even the teacher and some of his classmates notice and throw him furtive glances. He feels awake and alert though, like he’s waiting for something to happen. Like if he dozes off for just a second, he may miss something.

He’s been feeling that way since he woke up. So he ate a quick breakfast while his mother fretted and asked him if he was sick, then he left early and dropped by the school gym to shoot some hoops - not to work up a sweat, but to just move. When Satsuki found him at the court later, she had been rightfully angry from him leaving for school without her and not even bothering to text her that he would. He suffered through the scolding because he felt slightly guilty for avoiding her. He wasn’t even sure _why_ he wanted to avoid her.

Satsuki clearly wanted to know though, and Daiki only managed to get away from a thorough grilling because the school bell chose that moment to ring. Lucky! However, the look on her face when they parted to head towards different classrooms told him that he hadn’t actually fully escaped from her.

He sighs. He isn’t looking forward to when she finally corners him and makes him talk. _Maybe,_ something in the back of his mind whispers then, _you want to keep what happened yesterday a secret._

But that’s stupid. What happened yesterday wasn’t anything special. They said a few words to each other and that was it. That can hardly be called an _exchange_ let alone a _fateful_ one. Stupid Midorima and his stupid nonsense.

Right?

Right.

So the guy was worried (genuinely so, his mind whispers), was glad he ‘sounded’ like himself again (whatever that means), and he doesn’t hate Daiki. Big deal.

He slumps forward over his desk, resting his cheek, which suddenly feels warm, on the cold surface and bringing his arms around his head. He closes his eyes, and he swears he hears echoes of the words from yesterday in his mind.

He’s even more awake than before.

Daiki has almost forgotten the candy in his mouth, red and round when he unwrapped it. He rolls it around, then over his tongue.

Ah. He hums. It’s sweet.

**

It happens during a break in practice.

<I like dogs. I-I’m not scared.>

He spits out the water he’s drinking in surprise. Laughter bubbles out of him, loud and abrupt, at hearing the gruff voice sounding so stubborn yet so, so embarrassed, and the words - _shit._ Who even gets scared of _dogs?_

_“Aomine-kun.”_

He looks over and Tetsu is standing in front of him, his hair dripping and face disgruntled and ready for murder, and it only makes him double over, clutching at his stomach as uncontrollable laughter grips him. “I’m – sorry _bwahaha_ T-Tetsu! I’m –  _oof!_ ”

“Please don’t do that again. It is very disgusting,” Tetsu huffs as he dries his face and hair with a towel. “What was that about?”

Daiki plops down on the ground, nursing his side which is sure to bruise from Tetsu’s hand chop. “It was nothing, just,” he pauses to take a breath, trying to stop any more chuckles from coming out, “he said he’s not scared of dogs. That’s so stupid! How can someone be scared of dogs? They’re so fluffy.”

“Oh. Your soulmate?” the other boy asks.

“Ah, yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck, feeling suddenly self-conscious. He doesn’t really talk about this kind of thing to anyone, only Satsuki, and he’d stopped doing that some time ago too.

Tetsu looks at him strangely, but then the look’s gone and it’s just his usual blank face. “He’s scared of dogs?”

“Yeah. Isn’t that cu– I mean, uh, stupid?” he stammers, looking everywhere but at Tetsu.

“Well, it couldn’t be any more ridiculous than you being scared of bees, Aomine-kun.”

“Shut up!” Daiki hisses.

There’s a knowing glint in Tetsu’s eyes when Daiki looks back at him. It changes to something soft though as he says, “I’m glad.”

“Eh? Glad for what?”

“Oh, nothing,” Tetsu replies. He turns around, quick as his passes, and suddenly Akashi is there, arms crossed and face displeased.

“Aomine, did you not see Coach signal the end of break? 20 laps around the gym.”

“What?!” Daiki is up on his feet at once, but it still feels like Akashi’s looking down his nose at him.

Akashi’s smile is small, friendly, and absolutely scary. “Oh? Since you still have energy to spare, make it double the amount.”

“Why only me?! Tetsu is – ”

Apparently nowhere to be found, he finds out a second later when he whips his head around to look for him. That disappearing little shit.

 

* * *

 

It continues over the next few days. At random times of the day, Daiki hears his soulmate muttering nonsense like _‘I just love studying so_ so _much’, ‘I can’t cook. I hate it’,_ and _‘Cheeseburgers are the worst.’_ The latter made him so offended he opened his mouth without thinking –

“No way! _Teriyaki_ burgers are the worst!”

– right in the middle of fourth period, which earned him lots of bewildered looks, a scoff from Midorima, and detention for a whole week. He can’t find it in himself to be mad about the whole thing though. Yes, he’s embarrassed as fuck and he’s sure to get an earful from Akashi and the coach – because time in detention is time not spent in the court – but past that, he doesn’t mind that half of his classmates now think he’s a loony.

Daiki has figured out after that spectacle that his soulmate’s been purposely lying, telling _him_ specifically, about all those little things about himself. At first he thought it was weird – because why would his soulmate do that? – but he’s gotten used to it. Before this, he’s indifferent to anything he hears over the bond, not caring about it one way or the other. But now, and he’ll never tell anyone, there’s a warm comfort to hearing the voice in his head whispering stuff about his likes and dislikes and secret wishes _(“I don’t like it here in America. But I don’t want to go back to Japan”)._

It’s a strange kind of connection. And for some reason, he finds himself wanting to know more about the person at the other end of it. And for him to know Daiki too.

So when Daiki hears him speak to him again that night, he says back with a grin –

“Me too. I hate basketball too.”

 

* * *

 

Satsuki finally corners him on the day of the preliminary finals.

“You seem different recently, Aomine-kun.”

“Hah?”

“I mean, I didn’t even have to wake you up all week!”

“Ugh, stop being noisy so early in the morning,” he grouses. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Satsuki doing her signature pouting face, but he ignores it expertly and continues walking towards school.

“Did something good happen?” Satsuki asks a while later.

“What makes you think that?” he asks in return, and out of habit, he takes the side closer to the road and slows his stride to keep up with hers.

“Because! You’ve been smiling a lot! Look, you’re smiling now too.”

 _He was?_ “I am?” he says out loud, definitely not feeling flustered.

“Yes! I’m happy you’re smiling again but sometimes you suddenly do it out of nowhere and it’s kind of creepy to be honest,” she says teasingly, but he knows her enough by now to know that she’s also asking out of concern. Of course she is. Daiki hasn’t exactly been his usual self the week before and all the weeks before that.

“Tch. It’s…” He almost says _‘it’s nothing’_ again, but stops himself just in time. He remembers what happened on the footbridge, how he felt his soulmate’s worry then. It was a heavy, unpleasant knot of anxiety; not a good feeling, that was for sure. And if a guy he didn’t even know, who was miles and miles away, could feel something like that for him, then surely Satsuki and even Tetsu, who knows him much better, feels that way too (maybe even more) whenever they worry about him.

So he decides to tell her the truth, or at least enough of it to lessen her unease. “Well, I talked with Tetsu. And he knocked some sense into me. With a popsicle.”

Satsuki laughs, the sound of it bright and high. He likes making her make that sound, and he realizes with sudden guilt that he hasn’t heard it in a while.

“And… my soulmate talked to me. Well, I guess you can call that talking? And I replied and now he’s been telling me stuff about himself and uh, yeah.”

He expected the news to be met with some excitement, because Satsuki finds great joy in sticking her nose in his business. What he didn’t expect though is for his childhood friend to freeze on the spot and shriek in the middle of the sidewalk like a crazy woman.

_“What the he – ”_

“Dai-chan!” she shouts, slipping back to using his nickname like she always does when she’s excited. “You talked to each other?! And you called him your soulmate! You only ever called him _‘that guy!’"_

He hasn’t been aware that he did, but still, did she have to shout that? “Don’t announce it for everyone to hear!”

Fortunately, Satsuki calms down enough to resume walking and Daiki follows suit with an exasperated huff. “This is so exciting. What did he tell you? What did you talk about? Tell me, Aomine-kun!”

“Just stuff,” he tries to say dismissively. No way is he going into details.

But Satsuki is just as stubborn as him, sometimes even more so, which she proves now as she grabs hold of his right arm and shakes it, all while calling his name over and over. “Tell me, Aomine-kun. You never know, I might be able to find him for you! Don’t you want to meet him?”

Does he?

 _‘I don’t want to meet you,’_ he remembers saying that night and hearing in reply, _‘I don’t… uh, want to meet you too.’_

“No, not really,” Daiki mumbles to the air on his left.

“Your soulmate heard that!” Satsuki teases gleefully.

“Shut up!”

“Not until you tell me what you talked about.”

And with a deep and only _slightly_ irritated sigh, he does. They spend the entire walk to school with Daiki begrudgingly talking about his soulmate and Satsuki squealing every now and then. Idly, he wonders when the last time they talked like this was. He missed this. Still, he makes sure to leave out the truly embarrassing things because he doesn’t want her to have any more ammunition against him.

He doesn’t let Satsuki’s fake teary face convince him otherwise.

**

Later, to no one's surprise, they secure their place in the Inter-school Tournament with a solid, forty-four point victory on the preliminary finals.

And so, summer begins. With Nationals just around the corner.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The thing is, for a few blissful weeks Daiki dared to hope. Because Tetsu told him he could.

For a few weeks he managed to chase out the dark thoughts and turn away from the whispers. Because a person with a bright, thoughtful voice told him every day, in his own way, that he cared.

And ever since finding out that his soulmate also likes and plays the game, he’d even entertained some thoughts. That maybe someday they could play together, against each other. Be each other’s rivals.

He really thought he was fine.

But –

He should have known better.

**

“A guy who can take you on… There’s no way someone like that exists. Are you mocking me, you monster?”

This time, Daiki doesn’t get away in time. He hears the words, loud and clear and filled with hate from someone he thought was going to give him a challenge, echoing inside his head.

_Are you mocking me, you monster?_

_You monster._

_Monster._

This time, there’s no voice, bright and thoughtful, to distract him from the truth of it. From the fact that he’s strong. That he is so, so very strong.

Another realization hits him then, like a slap to the face.

“Tetsu,” he calls out, and he knows without having to look that the other boy has his fist raised. Daiki knows it is, but he makes no move to meet it. He thinks he won’t ever again. “I don’t think that what you said was wrong. But in the end… it’s no good.”

He feels strangely calm, and the only thing he is aware of is the slowly creeping surety that these guys are all weaklings. Every single one of them. There isn’t a single one of them who can take him on. Maybe not even –

“Somehow, I’ve realized… I’ll never find what I’m searching for.”

Because that person doesn’t exist.

_“The only one who can beat me is me.”_

 

* * *

 

And though the words taste bitter on his tongue, he proves the absolute truth of it on every match that follows. With every feint and steal and every shot he makes – shots that others may call reckless and impossible but what he calls easy and natural.

No one can beat him. Not even during the finals and against a pair of amateur twins who think they can walk all over him just because they drew four fouls from him during the first half.

Their victory has been a sure thing the moment he and Tetsu, on a moment of uneasy truce, stepped into the court on the second half of that game. But more than that, it is a _hollow_ one.

The first of many, many more to come.

 

* * *

 

<I don’t want to – >

He blocks out the voice before he can hear more of it.

 

* * *

 

Days go back to normal after that. But at the same time, nothing’s really ever the same anymore, not just because of the fact that Shirogane-kantoku is no longer with the team.

For one, practice resumes. But it has become such a chore when in the past it’s been the only thing he does willingly to occupy every spare moment he has. Half of the time he’s not even sure why he’s still bothering to come when he knows it’s only going to make him stronger, and the other half he spends in silent despair, thinking how everything is so unfair and _‘I didn’t want to be_ this _strong. I just wanted to have fun and play.’_

For another, he and Tetsu don’t speak with each other much anymore. Conversations used to be easy between them even if they didn’t have much in common besides basketball. But now they can barely even make small talk. When one day Daiki gets too worked up with his frustrations and lashes out against another first string member who’s barely doing enough, let alone his best, to defend him, Tetsu just murmurs his name then doesn’t say anything more when before he would have, without hesitation, jabbed him on the side and reprimanded him for being an ass.

Somehow, Tetsu’s silence that day affected him more than the fact that apparently his teammate’s _best_ is barely enough against Daiki’s _nothing._ If even _Tetsu_ gives up on him...

He remembers what Shirogane-kantoku said to him –  _‘Despite all of this, please do not let your talent go to waste.’_ And a mirror of what he himself has told Tetsu – ‘ _I won’t say it’ll definitely work out if you don’t give up. But if you do give up, nothing will remain.’_

And he has tried, _god_ , has he tried. He goes to practice everyday. Suffers through each easily-passed defense and easily-made shot and everything else that he does so easily without even putting an ounce of effort. But how long is he supposed to wait? Every day he’s finding it harder and harder to care and he fears the day when he just… _stops._ Stops caring about basketball.

He fears it so much because basketball is his everything and without that, what more is there to him? What else is left for him to offer?

 

The answer, he learns on a rainy, late October day, is a big _nothing._

 

* * *

 

<I like – >

 

* * *

 

He hasn’t slept well the past week, being kept up late into the evening by heavy, restless thoughts, and it shows on the bags under his eyes, his lazier-than-normal slouch, and his flaring temper. He’s been feeling on edge all day today, so out of sorts, his nerves stretched so thin he feels like he’s a step away from snapping.

Or breaking, into tiny little pieces.

And he feels like he does break a little, when he hears his no-good teammate say nervously, _‘It’s just that you’re too strong! There’s no one who can stop you…’_

Daiki knows that all too well _(are you mocking me you monster),_ knows that his other teammates – those that aren’t regulars and not a _‘Miracle,’_ that is – are starting to give up on him too. _Maybe they all will call him a monster someday too,_ he thinks bitterly as he grits his teeth in frustration.

“Fuck it! I’m not dealing with this.”

He ignores the calls of his name and heads out the gym, stopping just long enough to grab his bag before he marches away, not having a destination in mind but just needing to _get out, get away._

In the distance, he hears the crack of thunder. Loud and foreboding.

He’s not sure know how long he has walked around aimlessly, but Daiki soon finds himself along the riverbank near the school. A gust of cold wind makes him shiver, the air getting thick with the smell of rain.

“Ah… dammit.”

He really has done it this time. Causing a commotion and then running away without thinking… and he’s already skipped practice a few times too. At this rate, he’ll probably get demoted.

 _‘Well… if that happens, guess it can’t be helped.’_ He deserves whatever punishment is coming his way.

And he really did get punished for it, in a way. Because Daiki thought he has already heard the most hurtful thing anyone can possibly throw at him. After all, what else could be worse than being called a monster?

But he’s wrong.

It turns out that being told, by your _coach_ even, that he’s not needed for anything more than playing and scoring in games is more painful. Knowing that his worth as a person will only ever amount to the points he can put on the scoreboard. And that no one really cares if he breaks while doing so.

So he’ll just stop caring too. Hurt everyone before they can hurt him.

And later, he finds out just how easy it is. He seems to know just what to say to hurt Tetsu.

“Understand? Ha! What could you possibly understand? Tell me, what can a guy like you, who can’t do anything by himself, understand?”

Tetsu looks at him in shock, but Daiki pays it no mind and plows on, blinded by bitterness and disappointment that he doesn’t think twice of what he’s saying anymore.

“You know, I wish I could have been born like you, Tetsu. I could’ve had so much more of a goal in life.”

_No, wrong, I don’t –_

Tetsu’s speaking again, about being envious of them and how he can’t do anything a normal player does. How it’s no use lamenting over things he can’t do and instead putting all he has into his passes – and Daiki can’t help but sneer loudly at that.

Because who were these passes for? Kise? Midorima? Murasakibara? _Him?_

“To what end though? Even though I can win all by myself. Against anyone, even _without_ your passes?”

He feels cold. And it’s not just from the cold of the rain soaking through his skin.

“Hey. Did you know? I haven’t received a single pass from you since then. Even though it was only a little while ago… it feels like it’s been so long.”

It’s strange. There’s a crushing pain in his chest. The words flow out of his mouth, unwanted, and it tears something in him, squeezing until he’s finding it hard to breathe. Daiki looks at the hurt and despair on Tetsu’s face, and wonders what his own looks like. If the stream of wetness he can feel running down his cheeks really were only from the rain.

_Make it stop. Help –_

“I… don’t even remember how to receive your passes anymore.”

It’s only after he says it that he realizes… he really has forgotten how to.

**

He doesn’t know how he got home, but he did. The house is empty and there’s a note on the fridge. He doesn’t bother to read it, let alone wring his wet clothes to avoid it dripping on the floor. He stays in the bath until he’s almost dozing off, then drags a pair of sweatpants and ratty shirt on before he burrows into the warmth of his blanket.

That night, he whispers into the darkness:

“I hate basketball. I hate it. I hate – ”

And he doesn’t know if he wishes that his soulmate could hear it. He doesn’t know if he wants it to be a lie or not. He doesn’t know anything anymore.

Outside, the storm rages on.

 

* * *

 

<I’m not – >

 

* * *

 

Things can only go downhill from there.

Weeks pass in a blur of sleepless nights, missed practices and naps on the roof, forced and stilted conversations between the team in the middle of a practice match, and ignored pleas from Satsuki.

She tells him about Akashi and Murasakibara, but he can’t muster even an inch of care _._ He doesn’t care for much these days. She tries to talk to him about Tetsu, but no he doesn’t want to talk about Tetsu. She then tries to ask about his soulmate, but he shoots that down too, almost vehemently.

“Leave me the fuck alone Satsuki! I don’t want to talk to you!”

The look she gives him then is becoming all too familiar now. First Tetsu, and now her.

It really is too easy to hurt people with your words.

 

* * *

 

“Daiki, how’s school?”

“It’s fine, Mom.”

“How about club?”

“It’s fun.”

“I’m glad. Are you ready for the start of the new year?”

“Yeah. I can’t wait.”

 

* * *

 

The voice catches him off guard this time. He has just woken up from a long nap after lazing in bed all day, but he still feels so tired, so heavy and so sleepy.

<I’m not worried about you.>

It makes him startle and sit up on the bed, but to his dismay, he’s not quite awake enough to block out the rest of the thoughts.

<I’m not going back to Japan soon. I don’t want to see you, Dai-chan.>

 _No,_ he wants to scream. And just like that, like a dam that has been opened, he feels the anger and the deep resentment he has bottled up for so long, under layers of boredom and indifference, rush out of him.

He doesn’t care. He doesn’t fucking care.

If it turns out that even his _soulmate_ is like these weaklings, if even someone who’s supposed to be made for him will end up being a disappointment and a complete waste of time, if even he will turn from calling his name to calling him a monster to his face, then he rather the guy remain right where he is and stay the fuck away. Away from him. Daiki doesn’t need him.

“I don’t need you!”

He _doesn’t_.

“I don’t,” he chokes out through a sob that doesn’t stop for a long while.

 

 


	6. back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No way, no way will that –
> 
> It goes in. The ball doesn’t even touch the rim.

Taiga sees Alex’s bright blond hair before he notices, with great surprise, the person walking next to her. And without thinking about it, he’s already off his seat and running through the crowd towards their direction.

“Tatsuya! You’re here!”

Tatsuya stops walking, and there’s a pause before he says, “Of course I’m here.”

His voice is even, but even though he’s smiling, Taiga can see a tightness to it. His ear is also a little red, and he’s seen enough of it, on either one of them, to know that it’s from Alex’s famous ear-pulling. So Tatsuya isn’t entirely here of his own will. It makes Taiga hesitate, his feet stopping a few feet away and the grin on his lips wavering.

Taiga honestly hasn’t been expecting him to come. Not after the way they left things unsettled between them the last time they have seen each other, let alone the fact that he hasn’t shown himself on the courts for the past month. He was too much of a coward to face Tatsuya at first, and then _that_ happened, and Taiga is a little ashamed to think that he has been distracted, all of this thoughts focused on just one thing, one _person,_ that at times he forgets about their rings and the promise behind it.

He notices, almost absently, that Tatsuya’s not wearing his ring. And he wonders where it is, if it’s still broken or if he’s already gotten rid of it.

Before Taiga can ask, Alex’s already draping an arm around Tatsuya’s shoulder and dragging him closer. _“Alright you boys, make it quick,”_ she says as she lets go of the other and makes her way towards the waiting area, throwing an encouraging smile over her shoulder. Who she’s aiming it at, Taiga’s not sure.

The two of them stand there, not really looking at each other, and Taiga can’t stand the tense silence. It’s something that’s never been there between them before.

It’s Tatsuya who breaks it first. “So. Going back to Japan?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, looking up from staring at his shoes. And though Tatsuya’s still wearing that tense look from earlier, Taiga meets his gaze. “Dad’s being transferred there for work,” he says.

It’s the truth. His father was given the option of managing the company branch in Japan again, and while he took the chance, they didn’t really need to go there so soon. The original plan was to return after Taiga finishes middle school, a year and a half later, but Taiga doesn’t want to wait that long. He wants, no, _needs_ to go back as soon as possible. Fuck, he should have gone back a long time ago (or maybe, he has taken to thinking recently, they shouldn’t have left at all). So he convinced his father, told him his reasons, and eventually, though he still had reservations, he agreed.

Tatsuya just looks at him, his expression unreadable. Does he know why they’re leaving _now_ and not later? Does he think that Taiga’s choosing something else over the future of their brotherhood?

“I see,” Tatsuya says, his voice clear even through the noise and the bustle of the people in the airport. “Then maybe the next time we meet, it will be back in Japan.”

 _‘To find out who will get that fiftieth win,’_ he doesn’t say, but Taiga gets it anyway.

Tatsuya then holds out his hand in front of him, and Taiga stares at it, how his hand is open for a handshake and not closed for a fistbump like all the ones they used to share before. And though it hurts a little to see such a distance between them, he grips Tatsuya’s hand with his own, pulls, and hugs him tight.

“Thanks for seeing me off,” he says, stubbornly not letting go even when his brother – because, he decides right then and there, that’s what the other boy always will be even after the outcome of their next match, no matter if it’s his win or Tatsuya’s – protests and struggles against him. After a few more seconds, he finally feels an arm wrap around him, slowly and tentatively, and Taiga doesn’t care if the other’s hold is weak. The fact that Tatsuya _is_ here, even when some part of him clearly doesn’t want to, is enough.

He hears his father call him over, and he lets go of Tatsuya, almost reluctantly, but the smile he shoots the other boy when they both step back from each other is real and not forced. This is, afterall, the last time he’ll see his brother for who knows how long. “See you, Tatsuya!”

"See you, Taiga,” Tatsuya echoes after a moment, and it’s surely amusement that’s making the corners of his lips twitch.

The sight of it gives Taiga a strange surge of confidence. He doesn’t know how he’ll make things better between them again, but he will, someday.

He grins and gives Tatsuya a parting wave before he turns, heading to where his father is standing beside Alex. As soon as he sees her there though, smiling wide and open, his grin disappears and he has to swallow a few times because he knows, in some way, that this goodbye will be harder.

Because sometime between when he and Tatsuya pestered her to teach them basketball and this moment right here, where he’s now standing a couple of inches taller than her, Taiga has started seeing Alex as more than a mentor. A part of his small family, a sort of mother figure. Not a replacement for his true mother, no, but a source of warmth and comfort nonetheless, someone he wants to be recognized by.

It was an embarrassing thing to realize for him, especially since, sometimes, Alex doesn’t really act like a grown up – let alone a _mother_ – what with the way she kisses every brat and girl she deems cute (he and Tatsuya always seem to be the exceptions, since they are neither brats nor _cute_ ) and how she has a tendency to lose important pieces of clothing when she’s in her home, or Taiga’s, or Tatsuya’s. But beyond that, Alex has a bright laugh, a kind heart, and a sense of intense protectiveness for and loyalty towards the things she cares about. He has come to love her for that.

 _“Hey kiddo,”_ she says in her usual carefree and cheerful tone. _“Don’t slack off on your basketball over there, okay? I’ll kick your ass if you do.”_

 _“I won’t,”_ he says in reply, and when Alex reaches out and ruffles his hair into a mess, he pretends to hate it like he usually does, but inside, he savors the feeling of it, rough and not at all gentle like his mother’s used to be. He’s going to miss this, miss her and Tatsuya, the courts and their apartment, the hellish training and the weekend dinners.

And suddenly, Alex is hugging him, whispering, _“I’ll miss you, Tiger,”_ and the edges of his vision turn blurry, so he closes his eyes, hugs her back, and buries his face into the soft tresses of her hair.

When Alex pulls back, her glasses are skewed and smudged and her hair is wet and sticking up on one side, and it makes Taiga laugh, the other two joining in with amused chuckles of their own. _“Well then,”_ she says once she has fixed her hair and her glasses, and maybe, surreptitiously, rubbed at the corner of her eyes, “Bye, Taiga.”

He smiles. “Bye, Alex.”

The last thing he sees before they cross the terminal gate and into the jetway is Alex, waving at them enthusiastically and maybe only half-fake crying, and standing next to her is Tatsuya, with a small smile on his face and his ring once again around his neck, back in its rightful place.

**

So Taiga’s plan is this –

Go back to Japan, join a basketball club, win lots of games, and hope that along the way he meets his soulmate. Easy. _Maybe_ next to impossible, considering that he doesn’t even know where the other boy is _._

(However, he doesn’t, for even a second, doubt that Dai _is_ in Japan. There’s a certainty, a _pull_ that he can’t explain the source of, that points him towards that place, and he doesn’t fight it.)

He’s putting his hopes on the fact that they share one thing in common. He still remembers that day, when he heard Dai’s reply – _‘Me too. I hate basketball too’_ – and how it was said with such enthusiasm and love, a mirror to how Taiga himself feels about the sport. And he thinks that surely, they are fated to play against each other, enjoy the game together. Maybe even be each other’s rivals. And that maybe, some unknown force will make them meet through basketball.

So he’s an optimistic simpleton, sue him. But it’s the only path of action he can think of, and damn if he won’t take it.

Because he remembers, with great clarity, a voice tinged with confusion and hopelessness say, _‘I hate basketball. I hate it. I hate – ’_ and other words too, cutting and cruel. But the lies were double-edged swords; it hurt his soulmate to say them, maybe just as much as it hurt the intended target to hear them.

Taiga had lost his mother to an accident; his father too, for a month or two after (but he’s back now, so it’s okay). In a way, he lost Alex through physical distance. And though he would like to think that he can and will do anything to mend his relationship with Tatsuya, there’s still the possibility that he can lose him once and for all the next time they play against each other.

He doesn’t want to lose another important person again. So like hell he would just sit back and lose his soulmate before he even gets a chance to meet him. He’s going back.

Dai _needs_ him.

**

He is fourteen when he and his father once again set foot in the country of his childhood memories. After so many years of being away and leaving behind, at least for a while, their apartment and two of his most important persons.

Taiga breathes in the air, and already, he feels much closer to his soulmate.

“I’m not back,” he whispers, hoping that Dai will hear him this time.

 

* * *

 

“My name is Ta – um, Kagami Taiga. Nice to meet you.”

He almost forgets to bow, not having any reason to do it back in the States, and when he straightens, perhaps a second too early, he sees a sea of unfamiliar faces looking back at him. Taiga’s not looking forward to the interrogation that will surely come later, what with him being a returnee enrolling a mere three months until the end of term and with weird eyebrows and all. But he’s had practice before, his first time in L.A., and unlike when he was younger, he wouldn’t hopefully be embarrassing himself with barely understandable sentences and a heavy accent.

“Do you play baseball, Kagami-kun?”

“How tall are you?”

“What’s with your eyebr – ”

“Kagami-kun, do you have a girlfriend?”

“Did you really come from America? Did you like it there?”

And the questions keep on coming, too fast for him to stammer out a reply, but it’s the last question that catches his attention and he wonders, _What if?_

“Yeah, I lived there,” Taiga starts to say, and he sweeps his gaze over each of his male classmate’s faces as he continues, expectant, “But I didn’t really like it there.”

And the chattering continues. Only, no one calls him out on his lie.

Eventually, the teacher manages to quiet down everyone and Taiga’s finally allowed to trudge his way to his desk at the back of the class, the only empty one in the room. Even as he sits, he can feel eyes on him, curious and interested and who knows what else. He just sighs and doesn’t return any of the questioning glances.

He tunes out the droning of the teacher even though he knows that he should be paying attention, especially since he has a shitton of stuff to catch up to. But he doesn’t care right now.

Taiga really hasn’t been thinking that it was going to be _that_ easy, finding Dai, but he still feels disappointed. It’s stupid. What was he expecting to happen anyway? That someone will gasp, stand, and say, _‘You’re lying, I heard you! I’m your soulmate!’_?

Hah! Like he’s ever been that lucky.

Still, as he turns his head towards the window beside him and looks out at the soft blue of the morning sky, he can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he’ll find his luck on the basketball club later.

**

“Whoa! You can dunk!”

“That’s so cool! Did you learn how to do that in America?”

“Do it again, Kagami-senpai!”

The sudden shouts, excited and loud, make Taiga almost stumble on his landing. He straightens up to see that three of the club members have gathered around him, all staring at him with awestruck and almost reverent gazes.

“It’s just a dunk, nothing special,” Taiga says, mostly to the guy, a first year from the looks of it – damn, he’s so _small –_ who keeps on saying _‘that was so cool’_ like it’s the first time he’s seen someone do it. Can no one else on the team dunk?

He looks around him, and he realizes that no, maybe not. He’s been so used to being on the short side back in L.A. that sometimes he still gets disoriented when he finds that he has to look _down_ almost all the time now. He’s easily the tallest in class, even here on the club.

“But it was really cool!” the maybe-first-year guy says again. “None of the other senpai can do it.”

The one next to him elbows him on the stomach hard. “Shut up Matsuda! Do you want them to hear you and make us do errands for them again?”

“They always order us first years around anyway,” apparently-really-a-first-year guy grumbles in protest as he rubs at his belly.

“Yeah, well. Don’t make it easier for them. Oh, Kagami-senpai,” – and wow, being called that is just so weird – “we haven’t introduced ourselves yet!”

One by one they fire off their names, which Taiga hopes he’ll still remember an hour later, and with introductions done, the topic quickly shifts back to him again, specifically his ‘awesome dunk.’

“ – did you see senpai jump so high though?! He was – ”

“Where’s the coach?” Taiga says, cutting off Matsuri – or is it Matsuda? – before he gets too excited. “Don’t we have training today?” He’s been itching to do workouts again, maybe even get in a practice game or two. He hasn’t played a proper game since… well, since that last one with Tatsuya, months and months ago. He misses it, the thrill of a good game.

He watches in confusion as the three of them look at each other. Did Taiga say something weird? He hasn’t been in an official team or club like this before, all of his time before this spent in the street courts, but surely they train and play in matches with other schools here?

“Nationals are over and the third years have retired so we don’t really have official training anymore,” says the third one whose name he can’t, for the life of him, remember. “Not even half of the club has been coming recently. And when they do, well,” he trails off as he gestures around the court, at the people just lazing around and doing absolutely nothing related to basketball.

“But doesn’t the team need to prepare for next year?”

“I think most of the senpai don’t really care about next year,” Matsuri says in a whisper as he looks around furtively, “not after that match in the prelims against those monsters.”

“They _trounced_ the senpai. They tripled the score, man,” says the second guy Taiga thinks is called _Saito,_ and Taiga doesn’t know what to make of his tone, like he’s absolutely horrified yet totally amazed.

“Yeah. Fucking Teikou,” the other sighs. “And their ace – ”

“Oi, first years! Go and fetch us drinks from the vending machine!” shouts someone from the group sitting on the far side of the court. “Get me Fanta!” he adds, and the others around him also shout their orders over the manga they’re reading.

Taiga watches as Maybe-Matsuri and Maybe-Saito mutter between themselves but ultimately does what they’re told. This is one more thing, along with the stiff politeness and formalities, that he thinks he’ll never get used to with being back in Japan. Why the hell do these guys think it’s okay to order someone around just because they’re older by a measly year?

“They’ve always been like that. And I’ve always wanted to stop them. But even though I’m a second year, well, I’m not a regular like them,” the third guy says, almost self-deprecatingly.

“But you like ball?”

"Of course I do.” No hesitation.

“Then that’s enough. They’re so lazy you’ll easily steal a spot from them soon,” Taiga says.

The other gapes at him and then laughs, reaching out a hand to pat him on the shoulder. “You’re a good guy, Kagami. Matsuda and Sato were scared of you at first but I guess your dunk won them over.”

“It was really nothing though,” he says in reply as he rubs at the back of his head and ignores the remark about him being scary. He knows that all too well. “And uh thanks, I guess, uh  – ” Shit. What the hell is this guy’s name?

“It’s Takahashi,” he says, amused.

“Sorry,” Taiga mumbles, “I’m not good with names.” _Especially for people that don’t smell that strong,_  he thinks but doesn’t say. He's not _that_ tactless. The other chuckles, and Taiga’s suddenly hit with a bout of inspiration. “Hey, Takahashi. Do you know someone called ‘Dai’? Like, in the club, or school?”

“Dai?” the other says, humming in thought. “Not in the club, no. But there’s a Daisuke in my class.”

“There is?” Taiga asks, his voice rising in volume. “Does he play basketball?”

“Nah, he’s too lazy for that. Absolutely hates sports,” the other says, and there goes the slight bit of hope that has unconsciously blossomed on Taiga’s chest. “Why are you asking?”

“Nah, it’s nothing,” Taiga lies. And for what seems like the hundredth time, he feels something constricting, heavy, through the bond.

Like something’s blocking him. Like Dai doesn’t want to hear him.

“Hey, wanna play?” he says. He wants to not think about that feeling for a while.

"Yeah, sure! Let's wait for the other two. They'd surely want to play with you too."

 

* * *

 

“Taiga, what’s wrong?”

He looks up from to the table to see his father eyeing him with concern. “Huh?”

“You haven’t eaten much,” his father says, pointing a finger at Taiga’s bowl of rice. “That’s only your third serving. Usually, you would have been on your eighth by now.”

“I… guess I’m not that hungry,” Taiga mumbles as he tries to pick up a lone rice grain with his chopsticks.

His father hums. “Is this about Dai-kun?”

Taiga considers not answering, because he knows he’s just being silly, but he’s been worrying about this for too long now. He’s been asking around, and he’s found three more people nicknamed ‘Dai’ – a ‘Daichi’ and two other ‘Daisuke.’ He hasn’t realized that it’s such a common nickname.

Other than that though, the team hasn’t been as strong as he expected. They were, well… _weak._

“Mm. We still haven’t met,” he says, trying not to think of his other concern. “He’s not in my class, or the club. I don’t think we’re even in the same school.”

He wishes, not for the first time, that it’s possible to lie about one’s name, or something like _‘My number’s not this…’_ or ‘ _I’m not living here..._ ,’ then have it heard by the person on the other side of the bond. But it’s just not possible, and no one knows why; it’s just among the many unanswerable questions about soulmates, right up there with why humans even have these bonds in the first place. Some call it mysterious, but the way Taiga sees it, it’s like the gods are just getting a kick out of having soulmates meet each other the hard way.

“We’ve only been back a week, Taiga,” his father says. “Give it time.”

That’s something he’s not sure he has though. How long has it been since he has heard it?

 _‘I don’t need you!’_ Desperate, hurting. _‘I don’t.’_

Too long.

There’s silence as Taiga eats his food, only broken up by his father’s sudden voice.

“Your mother and I met our last year in college, when she told me that the last seat on the classroom beside her was already taken. I heard her in my head then.”

Taiga listens, curious, even if it’s not the first time he’s heard of this story.

“It turned out that we had the same group of friends, and when they got together, to parties or just to hang out for dinner, sometimes I’d be there, and sometimes she won’t. Other times she’d be there and I won’t. We’ve been missing each other for years and we didn’t even know it,” he pauses to take a sip of his tea, and when he continues, there’s a small smile on his lips as he stares down his cup, relieving memories only he can see.

“But we did meet, that day during a shared Statistics class at seven in the morning. Ah, your mother has never been a morning person.” He chuckles, light and just a little bit sad. Then he looks at Taiga, his eyes sure. “You’ll get many chances to meet each other, son. In the meantime, do the only thing you can do right now.”

“What?”

“Talk to him through the bond. Like you said you’ve been doing these past months.”

“But…” he chews on his bottom lip. “Sometimes I don’t think he can hear me. I mean, he could have been sleeping then, but it felt different? Like he’s blocking me out or something, I don’t know.” All he knows is that it felt weird and unpleasant. He doesn’t like it.

“If he really is doing that, just continue talking to him. He won’t always be alert or awake enough to do it, and maybe, for now, hearing your voice will be enough,” his father reaches out a hand to grasp at his shoulder tight. “Don’t lose hope.”

Taiga nods and returns the smile his father gives him. He’d figured waiting and hoping is all he can do anyway. But he appreciates the reassurance that he’s not fucking up his chances by sitting on his ass. That there’ll be more opportunities for them to meet

His father goes back to eating. “You did well with the teriyaki sauce. Are you practicing for someone?” he teases a few seconds later.

“Ugh, shut up Dad,” he mumbles, embarrassed, as he shoves rice and bits of grilled meat into his mouth. It’s good, but he can definitely make it taste better.

He’ll make it perfect.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, new guy! How about a game?”

Taiga picks up the ball that went out-of-bounds and turns towards the voice. A couple of other second years are standing a few feet away, hands on their hips and grins on their faces. He sees out of the corner of his eye as Takahashi and the other two first years back away and figures that these guys are trouble, or looking for one.

“Yeah, sure. Why not?” He looks from the guy who spoke, the same one who ordered the others to buy drinks on his first day here a month ago, and then to the two behind him. “Three-on-one?” Taiga says, a little mockingly. He knows these types – arrogant only when there are other people backing them up.

The guy smirks, his expression an ugly mix of anger and disgust before he turns it into a friendly, although fake, smile. “Don’t talk to your captain like that, you returnee. Consider this a test. Your membership to the club hasn’t been formally accepted yet.”

Taiga tosses the ball towards the other boy and stands in front of the hoop, just past the free-throw line. “Bring it on, then,” he says as he gets into a defensive position. It’s not like it will make much difference if there’s just one or three of them.

And he’s right. They play well, but they’re still only below average. They cheat though. _Badly._ But even through that, he still doesn’t break a sweat when fifteen minutes later, he scores his tenth point with a dunk over the so-called captain’s head and a sigh of irritation on his lips.

They collide on the way down, the other falling to the floor with a loud thud. “Sorry. Here,” Taiga says as he reaches out a hand only to have it harshly slapped aside.

“I don’t need your help,” the captain growls out as he rises to his feet. “And if you looked so bored playing with us, maybe you should just leave the team.”

“What?” he says, voice disbelieving. Did he really look bored? And leave the team? He _can’t_ leave the team!

“You heard me. I don’t want someone like you on the team. You’re just like _them._ Especially _that guy._ Guys like that don’t need a team to play with,” the other continues, his tone now losing all signs of pretend pleasantries.

“Captain – ” someone on the sidelines starts.

“Stay out of this Takahashi, you useless shit.”

“Listen, you asshole,” Taiga says, grabbing the front of the guy’s shirt and dragging him forward, not caring about the crowd they are gathering, nor the warnings he’s constantly been given by his father about talking with his fists. “This is between me and you, you fucking sore loser.”

There’s a flash of fear on the other’s face before it twists into a sneer. “Oh-hoh? Don’t think I haven’t seen you hanging out with that idiot Takahashi and those two scrawny first years. Maybe I should make all of you idiots leave and you four can form your own team huh? Too bad you’ll still be short a player,” he jeers, his two other lackeys chuckling along with him.

It makes Taiga’s blood boil, his temper rising to a height it’s only been at once before, that day when he first punched a guy for calling him and Tatsuya ‘cocksucking pussies.’ God, does he want to punch this guy’s nose in. And he almost does, he has his fist already closed and pulled back, but he remembers those three, their enthusiasm for the game and their never-wavering efforts to get better – practicing when no one else will, asking him for tips, and playing against him even though they never win.

So instead Taiga pushes the asshole away with enough force to make him sprawl on his back again and turns around to grab his bag by the wall. “I quit,” he spits out to the captain as he turns to leave. He sees Takahashi, Matsuda, and Sato take a step towards him, but he shoots them a look and shakes his head. He doesn’t want to cause them any more trouble.

He exits the court, maybe for the last time ever, and heads home.

“This sucks,” he says, his steps heavy and slow.

What is he going to do now?

 

* * *

 

<I’m fine.>

It’s quiet, the voice. Blank. Uncaring.

Taiga doesn’t hear him again for a long time after that.

 

* * *

 

It’s the first day of his last year in middle school.

Taiga dozes off during the opening ceremony, sleeps during first period and the next one after that, and promptly gets a detention.

It’s late when he finally gets to leave, with the sun starting to set off in the horizon, but he still grabs his ball from the lockers and heads off towards the court a block away from the nearest Maji.

His father has gone back to L.A. two weeks ago to handle some problems with the company, and Taiga has never liked cooking for just himself, so Maji has become his go-to place for a quick meal. He discovered the court a week ago, and since then he’s been coming here to shoot some hoops. It’s become a routine, and it’s the only thing he’s looking forward to everyday.

He knows what he’s hoping to see everytime he comes here.

The court is usually empty – he has gotten used to this – but today it isn’t. There’s a boy standing by the hoops, short, with light hair he can’t distinguish the color of from the scant light of the sky and the court’s lone, flickering bulb.

Could it be…?

“I don’t want to see you,” he whispers, willing his heart to _slow down_ , _fuck, don’t get your hopes up,_ but the boy doesn’t move, doesn’t even twitch in surprise. And just like that, he feels sadness wash over him again, cold and harsh.

“Hey, you. If you’re not gonna use the court, move it,” he says none too gently.

“I apologize,” the other boy says, his tone low and polite as he turns around and walks past him.

Taiga takes off his gakuran and rolls up his sleeves, and it’s stupid; he doesn’t even know this guy. But there’s something eerily familiar with the expression on his face, something he sees on the mirror everyday. It makes Taiga call out to him. “Hey. You in a basketball club?”

The other’s footsteps halt, and he’s silent for a few moments as Taiga dribbles the ball. “... Yes. You could say that…”

He goes into form and takes aim for only a second before he shoots. “...Huh. Alright then. Well, doesn’t have anything to do with me anymore, but… Have fun, I guess.”

The ball goes through and swishes past the net, the sound of it barely noticeable even through the sudden silence.

Taiga doesn’t hear the other walk away, but he knows he’s alone now. It’s a familiar feeling, being alone, this loneliness.

He feels it everyday.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes, lying in his bed in the middle of the night, Taiga thinks how it’s a mistake. Going back here, that is.

The few matches he’s had on the street courts hasn’t swayed his opinion any about the level of basketball here. There's no challenge here. Nothing to drive him further. It is all so very disappointing and nothing at all like playing the game back in America.

And… he hasn’t heard anything through the bond in months. He’s been ecstatic that first time Dai talked back to him, telling him he’s sorry that he worried Taiga, that he didn’t mean to, that he’s thankful for his concern, that he doesn’t hate him.

The weeks following that, of exchanging little lies about themselves, were so precious to him, and he’s been so glad to hear Dai sound like he had back when they were kids – carefree and easily embarrassed – that having the happiness and peace of it broken by ‘ _Y_ _ou know, I wish I could have been born like you, Tetsu. I could’ve had so much more of a goal in life,_ ’ stunned and upset him badly. He’d never heard anyone sound as bitter and hateful as Dai had sounded back then.

And now, nothing. The last thing he has heard before the radio silence was a quiet _‘I’m fine.'_  He also hasn't felt that oppressive feeling of being blocked anymore, and maybe Dai really _is_ fine now. He’s alright.

He hadn’t needed Taiga’s help at all.

And the thought makes him feel... useless. Unwanted. If his soulmate needed him but he’s not even there to help him be fine again... what the hell did he even come back here for?

 

* * *

 

Months pass.

He hasn’t brought his ball today (not since that first day in April actually), but he also doesn’t want to go home yet. So right after classes end, he leaves and goes left past the school gates, away from the direction of their apartment, and just… walks.

And walks, and walks some more. He passes by a konbini, and on a whim he decides to step in. When he steps out a few minutes later, it’s with a bag full of steaming, hot meat buns that he guesses will be his dinner for tonight.

He traces his way back, but somewhere along the way, he must have taken a wrong turn because he finds himself in front of the konbini again. He bites down on his meat bun in agitation because, _what the hell?_

So he backtracks; past the konbini, the slightly-tilted streetlight, the huge ass tree, and the house painted a garish yellow down the block. And a couple of turns later, for some godforsaken reason, he’s back in front of the store and its bright, overhead sign. So now he’s officially lost. Great. And his meat buns are gone. Just great.

Taiga turns back again, gritting his teeth in rising anger, and he’s almost past the corner when a familiar sound makes him pause – the unmistakable _thumpthumpthump_ of a basketball bouncing on concrete. He looks at the road in front of him and wonders if he can even find his way home before it gets dark. Then there’s that sound again, and before he knows it, he’s already walking towards its source – a basketball court on the other side of the street, across from the konbini earlier.

Through the chain-link fence he can see someone dribbling the ball on the half court line. The guy has his back towards Taiga, his stance slouched under the white of what he thinks is a school jacket. But when he runs up towards the hoop the next second, Taiga can tell even from a distance that his movements are quick and easy, with casual, almost careless, grace. And when he comes to a full stop at the paint without even slowing down, and makes a fade away shot while leaning so far back that he’s almost parallel to the ground, Taiga stops in his tracks and _stares._ No way, no way will that –

It goes in. The ball doesn’t even touch the rim.

“What the hell,” he whispers, awed. Shit, this guy is good. Really good and Taiga wants to play him. He makes his way over to the edge of the sidewalk but has to stop when he hears the loud honking of nearing cars. He waits impatiently, glaring at and silently urging the passing vehicles to pass by faster, and when the last car drives by, he takes off running towards the courts, heart pounding with excitement, only for the grin to fall off his face as he steps past the entrance.

No one’s there anymore. There’s only a lone ball cast off to the side of the court.

“Man, did you see that?”

“He’s that guy, you know? The ace of that team.”

“Oh yeah! He’s a monster.”

“Yeah.”

Taiga glances over his shoulder and sees two other students passing by the fence and talking animatedly. When they’ve gone past the court, he walks over to the ball and picks it up.

It’s still warm.

There’s nothing at all monstrous about that guy. He looks up at the hoop, seeing in his mind’s eye that seemingly impossible shot, and he thinks –

_It was beautiful._

 

* * *

 

“Yes, Dad. I’ve chosen.”

“Are you sure?” his father asks through the small Skype window on his laptop. “The other one has more history, a better team – ”

“Mm. I’m not really looking for a better team. And besides, this one’s nearer to the apartment.”

His father looks away, at his own copies of the pamphlets he himself has sent to Taiga through the mail a month ago. He doesn’t stay silent for long though, and after a few minutes he sighs. “Alright then. I’ll go back next week for the enrollment, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay long again.”

“It’s okay, Dad. I don’t mind.” And it’s true. He’s learned to like the independence being alone in Japan has taught and given him.

“Still, I don’t like being away for too long. I miss your cooking,” his father says, giving him a small, sad smile through the lens of their cameras.

Taiga laughs. “You don’t need to get fatter, Dad. Your doctor said so.”

They talk for a few more minutes until his father eventually has to return to work. They say their goodbyes after a promise to call again a few days from now.

He closes his laptop and looks down at the pamphlets. Out of the many his father has sent, he’s narrowed the choices down to two; where he’ll spend his next three years as a highschooler.

Seirin High and Touou Academy.

He chooses Seirin.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are great <3


	7. unfamiliar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This can't be him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't expect too much from the chapter length. This is a mess and more than half of it is just me rehashing canon and I don’t like it. I had to do it though because otherwise, it wouldn’t feel right for me to skip so much canon stuff. That said, watch my (possibly failed) attempts to condense 30+ manga chapters in just one fic chapter lmao.
> 
> Enjoy?

There had been times during the past year when Taiga had seriously considered going back to America for high school, and maybe college too. The thought usually came to him when he’s alone, and he was alone a lot of times then, with his father being away and no friends, or even acquaintances, to hang out with. It got harder and harder to ignore with each day that passed that he didn’t get to play the way he wanted to, the way he’d always been used to playing – hard, fast-paced, and with winning as the motivation but not as a certainty.

However, when he’d expressed the desire to go back, Alex told him over the phone and with equal parts scolding and understanding, _“Here isn’t where you really want to be right now. And you know that, Taiga.”_

And he’d thought about it and realized that yeah, maybe he did know that. Afterall, he does want to see Dai, and Dai is here, not in L.A. And maybe, his hopeful mind had thought, there would still be someone here capable enough to challenge him.

Like _that guy,_ the one who moved so fluidly, so confidently, almost as if he’d been born to stand there on the court with a ball on his hand. That guy, who Taiga hadn’t seen again even after going to the street court in front of the damn konbini almost every day after the first time he’d seen him there.

And every day, he remembers that shot – a shot that should have been impossible to make (even Taiga can’t do it, and he’d tried many times, only stopping when he slipped and almost cracked his head open on the asphalt). So impossible that sometimes he wonders if what he saw had just been a dream; his mind playing tricks on him, showing him something he’s craving for – a strong player, someone he can play against with everything he has.

But he has the ball as proof, back in his room. Taiga had held it many times, and he knows that the ball is scuffed, too rough in some spots. Well used. How long has he practiced that shot to make it so flawless, so perfect?

Taiga wants to see it again, but from up close, face to face on the court. He wonders if he’ll be able to stop it.

 _‘The ace of that team,’_ he’d heard.

So Taiga will continue to play. He’ll take a chance with the basketball club in Seirin, a new school with an even newer team with members who may just be decent enough to not look at him with disdain for being able to dunk over their heads. And maybe it’s wishful thinking on his part again, because he doesn’t even know if the guy’s in high school like him, but if they’re in the same area and playing with each of their teams (he’s no longer so naive to think they’d be in the same school) then it’s likely that they’ll get to meet in one tournament or the other.

And although he has learned not to whisper lies and not expect so much out of each new meeting with a stranger, has told himself to not get his hopes up for each Daisuke or Daichi and the occasional Daigorou that he will surely come across, something tells him that basketball is still the way he and his soulmate will meet. So Taiga will play and wait, and along the way he’ll meet that guy with the awesome shots and Dai, too.

It’s like killing two birds with one stone.

 

* * *

 

And with that determination in mind, on his first day as a high schooler, he steps into the crowd of students milling past the school gates and enthusiastically recruiting possible new members for their clubs. He easily moves through the almost tightly-packed grounds, or rather, he walks in a straight line and the others scamper out of his way, possibly due to his size but most likely because of his scowling face.

He eventually finds what he’s looking for just past an overly excited boy touting the greatness of the literature club – a group of three students handing out flyers covered with bright orange balls.

“Hey,” he says to the shortest of them, “are you guys with the basketball club?”

They look up at Taiga in surprise and don’t answer for long enough that he wonders whether he has accidentally spoken in English. “Oh! Yes, yes we’re the basketball club!” the guy, with a mouth shaped weirdly like a cat’s, says after a while. “Are you interested in joining – ”

“Yes. Where should I sign up?” he interrupts, his tone coming out gruffer than he intends it to.

“I can lead you there!” Cat-Guy offers, but when he turns around, he instantly gets blocked by a swarm of black and blue and white uniforms of what seems like the entire student body of Seirin.

Huffing in impatience, Taiga grabs the scruff of the guy’s uniform, lifts him up, and walks forward with sure steps, ignoring the startled gasp from the guy and the shout from behind him. “Point the way.”

“Um. Over there,” the other mumbles as he points in the direction of the cherry blossom trees a couple of distance to the right.

It takes him no time at all to reach the table for the basketball club and deposit the guy he’s carrying off to the side, nor does it take him more than a few seconds to write down his name on the form. He hesitates on putting down his middle school though, because it didn’t really feel like he belonged in his last one, so he puts down his school back in L.A. and leaves the rest blank.

“Oh, you didn’t write your goals?”

“No. It’s personal,” Taiga says as he turns away. “And I wouldn’t need to anyway. After all, Japanese basketball is almost the same everywhere.”

 _Almost._ Because that guy is out there after all. And the members of this team, even the girl who’s probably a manager, don’t smell all that weak either.

He actually can’t wait for practice later.

 

In his excitement, Taiga doesn’t notice the curious, assessing look pointed his way from a couple of steps behind him.

Watching.

Like a silent shadow.

**

The members of Seirin’s basketball club are… weird, to put it mildly.

There’s that guy he dragged by the neck earlier, another one who only ever seems to speak nonsense (he’ll only realize later on that he’s talking in _puns_ , and terrible ones at that), and a guy who’s the complete opposite and hasn’t spoken a single word the whole time they’re in the gym. What’s strange about it is he still seems to be having an actual, although one-sided, conversation with Cat-Guy.

“Hey, isn’t that manager cute?”

“She’s a second year, right? But that’s true! If she was just a bit sexier…”

Then the glasses-wearing guy (the captain, he introduced himself earlier), comes over and knocks the two freshmen over their heads with his fists, and Taiga immediately tenses. Is this going to be just like that time back in middle school?

After classes ended earlier, he found himself hesitating by the doors to the gym. He was wary, not knowing what this team’s upperclassmen will be like, wondering if they’re the same as the ones from his previous team (and could Taiga even call that last one _his_ team, when all of them had seen him as someone different, three of them admiring him for being good at the game and the rest hating him for the same reason. There’d never been an ‘us,’ only the guys who think they’re strong, those they think weak, and Taiga).

“You’re wrong, idiots!”

But there's no anger in the captain’s voice nor his expression, only mild scolding and possibly teasing, and the two freshmen seems to be exclaiming from surprise and not in pain. Taiga sighs in relief, belatedly realizing that he’s had his fists clenched tight during those last few seconds.

It turns out that the girl from earlier is apparently not the manager, but the team’s _coach._ He has a hard time believing it at first, not because she’s a girl – he may have been desensitized to Alex’s charms, but he _does_ know that’s she a woman and that women can be great coaches too – but because she’s… well, tiny. He can’t imagine how a girl so frail-looking could possibly corral a team of high school boys a couple of times bigger than her.

But then she says, with a straight face and a no-nonsense tone that just dares _anyone_ to complain, “Take off your shirts!”

The next few minutes are perhaps one of the most uncomfortable moments of Taiga’s short life. He has never before been looked at the way the coach is scrutinizing him right then, analytical and almost manic in its intensity. He shivers, not just from the cold of being almost half naked, but at the feeling that he’ll be having a lot of hellish training scheduled in his very near future.

What has to be the biggest surprise of the day, however, is –

“Excuse me,” a voice says from seemingly out of nowhere. “I am Kuroko.”

During the slight chaos of surprised shrieks and disbelief that follows, Taiga thinks that this guy’s name, he will have no trouble remembering. Not just because of his absurdly colored hair – no way is that _not_ dyed – but mostly because he looks and even _sounds_ weak.

Taiga has always had a pretty good sense of how good others are. People who can succeed smell differently from the rest. But there’s something not right with this Kuroko guy. The weak should smell weak, yet strangely, he doesn’t reek of weakness. He doesn’t smell like anything at all.

It makes Taiga curious enough to talk to the small, suddenly jittery brunet beside him, and later, after a brief but fast-paced set of practice drills, Taiga leaves the gym with an almost giddy feeling. This team doesn’t seem bad. But more than that, he’s found something new to look forward to –

_The Generation of Miracles._

So when he later goes to Maji and almost chokes on his burger as he suddenly finds himself facing the blank stare of the mysterious blue-haired boy, Taiga seizes the chance and drags him off to the nearest street court to challenge him to a one-on-one.

Taiga has a goal for continuing to play here. He’s not playing just for the fun of it. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want to play in matches that make his blood boil, that make him want to go at full strength. So to learn that there’s an apparently strong group of guys that exist here, and in the same year as him too, makes him excited and hopeful. It’s the first time he’s felt that way in a long time.

He wants to see for himself what kind of a guy this Kuroko is, whether he’s really as strong as people say the ‘Miracles’ are.

So they play.

**

And later that night, he learns three things about the guy:

 _One_ , Kuroko is, without a doubt, desperately _weak_.

 _Two_ , Kuroko likes to spout idealistic bullshit about effort and hard work, which in turn makes Taiga blurt out things about not being interested in weak guys (because why should he when they’ll only ever hate him for being the opposite) and an unsolicited advice about raw talent and giving up (because doing it of your own will is better than having others force it upon you).

 _And three_ , Kuroko is a little shit.

 

* * *

 

Not even a day later though, the practice match against the second years makes Taiga realize that he has some mental rearranging to do about the things he thought he knew about Kuroko.

 _One_ , he _is_ weak. But he is strong in other ways, his passes unbelievably amazing and unlike any Taiga had ever seen before, even back in America.

 

“Here, I’ll give you one,” he says as he passes a burger over.

Taiga’s in Maji, and for some reason, Kuroko is sitting in front of him again without him knowing how he got there in the first place.

“I’m not interested in weak guys, but I’ll acknowledge that you’re worth one piece of that.”

“...Thank you.” Kuroko says it almost like a question.

 

 _Two,_ the guy talks about effort because he knows everything about it. God knows the guy didn’t master those crazy passes overnight. That took practice, and a lot of it. And Taiga knows how to respect hard work.

 

“Just how strong are the Generation of Miracles?” Taiga finally asks as they head outside and walk down the street. “If I go against them right now, what would happen?”

“You would be destroyed instantly,” Kuroko replies without missing a beat.

“Do you have to put it like that?!” he says, half pissed and half in disbelief. Sure, Kuroko’s impressive in terms of passing, but the others can’t be _that_ great that Taiga won’t even be able to stand a chance against them. He’s not weak.

“On top of that, all five of them have joined different veteran schools. There is no mistaking that one of them will be standing at the top.”

Taiga can’t tell whether the other said that in hopelessness, as a warning, or just as fact. But all it does is get him fired up. “I’ve decided! I’ll take all these guys down and become the number one in Japan.”

 _That_ makes Kuroko stop and turn towards him, his stare unblinking as he sips his milkshake. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Oi!”

“I don’t know the limits of your potential, but with your current level, you wouldn’t even reach their feet. You can’t do it alone.” He pauses and lowers his head. When he looks back up, his face is half-shrouded in the darkness of the night.

“I have decided as well,” Kuroko continues. “I am a shadow. But the stronger the light, the darker the shadow, and the more it accentuates the brightness of the light. I will be the shadow to your light, and make you the best player in Japan.”

“Hah! Look who’s talking.” He can’t say that he understands what Kuroko is saying, but it’s amusing to know that the guy can be passionate about something too even with that blank face of his. “Do whatever you want.”

“I will do my best,” Kuroko says, almost impassive, but Taiga thinks that he hears something sincere and earnest in his tone.

 

 _And three,_ Kuroko is such an unapologetic little shit who stands by his beliefs, isn’t afraid to say his thoughts, doesn’t take crap from anyone, and loves the sport just like he does. An overall interesting guy.

Taiga thinks they’ll get along.

 

* * *

 

“I hadn’t done anything yet and I still got scolded.”

Or at least Taiga thinks they will, if only this guy would stop scaring the shit out of him every damn time he appears! Seriously! Taiga gets why being invisible in the basketball court is an advantage to the team, but outside that, it’s just plain creepy and irritating. Unfortunately, appearing out of nowhere seems to be Kuroko’s specialty. He’s been called ‘the phantom sixth player of Teikou’ after all, and it was certainly not from him being flashy and noticeable.

He had been eating, _alone,_ grumbling about having to take stupid ‘tests’ before being allowed to play on the team and the teachers being so angry because he spoke a bit loudly during morning assembly (granted, he did stand _on_ the rooftop railings and shouted about being the best in Japan for everyone to hear, but still, if he was going to do it, he figured that he’d might as well go all out), when Kuroko suddenly, _again,_ did his ghostly shit and appeared out of thin air.

Taiga just barely manages to not choke on his soda at the sudden interruption, but Kuroko, the absolute little shit, only sips on his milkshake and looks on with a straight face. This is becoming a pattern and it’s not good for Taiga’s health.

“And it has become a problem,” Kuroko continues like he hadn’t just caused a few years to be shaved off of Taiga’s lifespan. “It doesn’t seem I will be able to fulfill part of the promise anytime soon.”

“Ha?”

“It seems that since your speech this morning, the rooftop has been heavily guarded. What will I do if I’m unable to join the club?”

“There’s no way that will happen, you know,” Taiga says. “More importantly, there was something that was bothering me. If you were good enough to be considered the sixth man, then why didn’t you join a renowned veteran school like the other five guys?” He hesitates, then just decides to ask, “Do you have… a reason to play basketball?”

Kuroko gives him another blank stare and Taiga thinks that he’s just going to brush aside the question, maybe throw it back at him, but after a while he says, “The middle school I was at was really strong at basketball –” Taiga scoffs, getting tired of hearing _that_ part already, “– but there was only one simple rule over there. That was… ‘ _Winning is everything_.’”

And Kuroko proceeds to tell him about how they had abandoned teamwork for the sake of winning, how the ‘Generation of Miracles’ became just basketball based on overwhelming individual skills and had ceased to become a ‘team.’ How even though they were playing well together, he’d personally felt that there was something important missing.

Taiga hasn’t expected Kuroko to tell him all that, because he doesn’t seem like the type to spill his guts out to a stranger, and a stranger is what Taiga is. And while he understands the idea of aiming to win (he does want to win every match he plays in, after all), the way Teikou goes about achieving that victory seems wrong, even to him who has no experience playing on a proper team.

He remembers – _‘They_ trounced _the senpai. They tripled the score, man.’ ‘Yeah. Fucking Teikou.’_

It doesn’t sit well with him.

“... So, what? You want to take them down with your basketball skills?” he asks, and when Kuroko says that he did use to think like that, he blurts out, “Seriously?!” Though he does acknowledge the other boy’s skills, Taiga doesn’t think that Kuroko’s crazy passes would do much against five supposedly-called prodigies.

“Yes, but rather than that, in this school… I was moved by your and senpai’s words.” Kuroko then looks at him straight-on and says, “Right now, the most important reason for which I’m playing basketball is because I want to make you and this team the best in Japan.”

“Stop saying that embarrassing stuff all the time. Whatever, as long as I get to crush those five,” Taiga huffs as he rises from his seat. “And it’s not _‘I want_ ,’” he says over his shoulder. And though there’s absolutely no basis for the surety of his next words, he says it anyway.

“You _will_. Right?”

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Taiga grins and thinks that being invisible does has its perks outside of the court. He looks down from the classroom window, and there, on the school grounds, are words that hadn’t been there an hour ago –

‘ _I will make you the number one in Japan’_

 

* * *

 

Kise Ryouta is a weird blond guy who’s overly noisy, whiny, and for some reason, _sparkly._ Looking at him too long and hearing him scream ‘ _Kurokocchi, Kurokocchi,’_ makes Taiga’s head ache horribly.

But there is absolutely no doubt in his mind that Kise is _strong._ It’s in his aura, the way his presence gets heavier the closer he gets to them. Taiga can’t stop his grin from widening as he feels the tension and excitement rushing through his blood. To think that Taiga would meet one of them so soon!

He’s itching for a match. Right here, right now. And without a second more of thought, he grabs a nearby ball and chucks it with no small amount of force towards Kise’s bright yellow head.

Kise, unsurprisingly, catches the ball easily, and there is a brief moment before he does so where his gaze turned sharp and intense. Taiga sees it and wonders how he’ll make him look like that again.

“Sorry to mess up your reunion after a long time,” he says, sounding not sorry at all, “but you didn’t come all the way here just for a greeting, right? How about being my opponent for a bit, huh?”

“Ehh, so suddenly?” Kise whines, then looks at him and hums in recognition. “Oh, you. From before…” He pauses, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Alright, I’ll play with you! As thanks for showing me something good.”

They share a smirk as they face off on the court, the noise of the crowd and the murmurings of Kuroko and the others fading to the background. Taiga crouches low in defense and Kise dribbles the ball, the sunny smile finally absent from his face.

And in the next breath he’s moving forward, Taiga just a hair’s breadth away beside him and about to block him off. But then Kise stops, turns, and makes a sudden, sharp cut around Taiga, jumping towards the hoop in a move eerily similar to the one he himself made just minutes before. Taiga stands still in surprise for a second before he reacts just in time to jump and get a hand on the ball from the side, but not fast enough to stop the dunk from going in.

That was Taiga’s move. But Kise’s… Kise’s is better and more powerful than his was.

 _This_ , he thinks as he falls to the floor and looks up at Kise still hanging from the hoop, _is a member of the Generation of Miracles._ If this guy, who’s apparently only been playing for two years and calls himself the weakest of the five is already _this_ strong, then what about the others? _Hell_ , he grins, _what about the_ ace?

He tunes back to the conversation to hear Kuroko say, “My thinking has changed since that time. More importantly, I already made a promise with Kagami-kun. A promise… to defeat the Generation of Miracles.”

“Hah!” _Yes we are. And I can’t wait._ He stands up and walks over to his teammate, and though Kise just wiped the floor with him, he’s far from discouraged. Far, far from it. “Damn, what the hell. Don’t go stealing my lines, Kuroko.”

Kise looks between them, something unreadable on his expression when he looks back at Kuroko. “You’re… not joking,” he says, quiet and almost hesitant.

“No,” Kuroko says after a while of silent staring. “I am serious.”

 

* * *

 

And come their practice match against Kaijou, they prove how much they’re _not_ joking through a quick steal-pass combo by Kuroko and a dunk from Taiga that tears the hoop from the backboard.

“Sorry, it seems we have broken the goal. Would you mind if we used the other half of the court?” Kuroko quips.

In a fit of almost apoplectic rage, the Kaijou coach does allow them the use of the full court. And when the whistle sounds and the match resumes, it’s with Kise Ryouta walking into the court and, not even a minute later, showing Seirin a greeting of their own – a dunk with even greater power than Taiga’s earlier.

“I can’t really do that with the girls,” Kise says, rubbing the back of his head in a seemingly embarrassed manner, but his tone when he says, “but in basketball, I never forget to return a favor,” is nothing but smug.

“Fine!” Taiga says, pissed off, “Kuroko, the ball!”

His dunk goes in, and it sets the pace for the next three minutes – a quick back and forth of points, both teams exchanging blows and charging right through the opponent’s defense.

Each move Taiga makes, Kise copies. But every damn time, Kise is faster, his cut sharper, his shots smoother and surer. It’s like Kise answers his every challenge with double the strength.

“Isn’t it about time you admit it?” Kiss tells him after blocking another of his shots and knocking the ball out of bounds. “As you are right now, it’s ten years too early for you to challenge the Generation of Miracles.”

“What did you – ?!”

“The only one that could have stood a chance against us is you. But even though you have potential, you’re still no match for me. No matter what kind of technique you use, as long as I see it, I’ll pay you back twice as much immediately,” Kise continues to say, his voice only slightly taunting as he turns away. “No matter how much you struggle, you can’t win against me.”

Laughter comes out of Taiga then, unbidden and breathless. _Oh wow,_ he thinks between gasps of air, _when was the last time someone said that to me?_

“Sorry, sorry,” he says in response to the alarmed and confused looks of almost everyone on the court. “Life is all about challenges,” In basketball and in finding _him_ too, “and without strong opponents, living isn’t fun. It’s perfect if I can’t win! It’s too early to start with the cheesy talk. I’m not done yet.”

**

They find out Kise’s weakness, which turns out to be _Kuroko_ . Kise can copy anything he sees, and Kuroko is nowhere near _noticeable._ The weak point of Kise, who Taiga isn’t even a match for – _not yet,_ anyway – is the weakest guy on the court for anything else other than passes. It’s almost funny, actually.

For them to make use of this knowledge though, he needs to cooperate with Kuroko. And that is something that Taiga’s not used to. This is his first time on a proper ‘team’; playing for streetball doesn’t count, since the players use the game mostly to show-off their individual skills.

But he wants to win and defeat Kise. This is just a practice game, but a victory here will feel like a step in the right direction towards defeating the other four and fulfilling his other goals. Besides, Taiga had always wanted to know what it feels like – being in a team, belonging somewhere (because it gets tiring being alone, even on the court).

So they make it work. A cooperative play with Kuroko’s lack of presence and misdirection at its core. If Taiga can’t defeat Kise on his own, then they’ll do it together.

**

“Yeah! We won! Let’s celebrate with a meal!” Koganei shouts out to the skies, and everyone else besides him and Kuroko join in on the cheers.

Taiga believed they had a chance of winning, but he would be lying if he said that he hadn’t been worried earlier, what with Kuroko getting injured and removed from the game and him being left with the uncertainty of his senpai’s abilities, not having had the chance to see them play in an actual game before.

There was also that moment towards the end when Kise became _really_ serious. The air around him had changed – heavier, even more stronger. He was even able to see through Kuroko’s pass.

But Taiga needn’t have worried. His senpai were good and capable, with Captain as a clutch shooter, Izuki as the ‘control tower,’ and the others as reliable supporters that hold the team together. And when Kuroko finally returned to the match, they managed to press on, stubborn and unrelenting in their attack up until the very last minute when Kuroko tricked Kise with a fake shot-pass and Taiga scored the buzzer beater.

Even now, as he polishes off the last bite of the heavenly steak on his fork – he doesn’t notice the awestruck look his teammates are giving him as he does so – he still feels the elation from that last dunk and the fact that they just won against one of the Generation of Miracles.

He likes this feeling (he ignores the small voice at the back of his mind telling him that even though he won, it was mostly because of Kuroko).

Then Kuroko disappears, and Taiga finds him together with Kise outside a nearby street court. One thing led to another, and Kuroko, the scrawny idiot, barges into other people’s business and the three of them find themselves having an unplanned and brief ‘match’ against a couple of thugs who thought it was fun to bully those weaker than them.

“Well then. It’s about time I go back. I was even able to play with Kurokocchi in the end!” Kise says once Taiga had properly chewed the ear off of Kuroko for getting them in trouble. When he passes by Taiga, he stops and says in a whisper, “Take care of Kurokocchi, okay?”

There’s none of the over-excited expression on Kise’s face and voice. Taiga raises an eyebrow, sparing a glance at Kuroko who’s standing off to the side and watching them silently, and though he wonders at Kise’s tone and why he’s telling _him_ that, he still replies seriously, “I think he can take care of himself just fine.”

Kise blinks at him, then grins, the quirk of his mouth a far cry from the fake, simpering, and haughty ones from earlier. “You’re right, Kurokocchi’s strong,” he says, then louder as he walks away, “Don’t think I would forget about that revenge, Kagamicchi! You’d better not lose in the preliminaries!”

Taiga still thinks that the blond is the most annoying person he has ever met, and though he has to admit that playing _with_ Kise was fun, it was nothing to the excitement of having defeated him on a match. He can’t wait for the day they’d have a rematch on an official game. Still, he doesn’t appreciate suddenly being called ‘Kagamicchi’ though.

Kuroko stares at the corner Kise disappeared off to for a few more seconds before he finally turns to him. “Kagami-kun, did you hear what Kise-kun and I talked about earlier?”

So they’ll pretend that he didn’t just have a private conversation with Kise. Okay. He’s been expecting the question after having unintentionally eavesdropped on their conversation anyway. He doesn’t get what the problem is though. Half of what Kise said didn’t even make sense.

“About whether we’ll have to part or not?” he says as he puts his hands on his pockets. “It’s not like I even get along with you. Besides, you’re the one who said it’d be impossible alone. So I think it’s pointless for you to worry. On top of that, being always with the ‘main character,’ your so-called ‘light’... it’s what your basketball is all about, right?”

Kuroko looks at him blankly. “Kagami-kun… talks big as well.”

“Shut up!” Taiga says, feeling embarrassed. He can’t believe he just bought into that shadow-light crap Kuroko kept on spewing; the words just came out of his mouth.

Later, when their teammates catch up to them and Coach brings Kuroko into a painful-looking Boston crab hold, Taiga recalls Kise’s words –

_‘One day… he’ll definitely reach the level of the Generation of Miracles. He’ll be on a different level than the rest of your team. Do you think that guy will still stay the same as he is right now when that happens?’_

And he thinks, _Why the hell wouldn’t I?_

 

* * *

 

“Did you hear? Fujioka from Class 1-A met her soulmate yesterday!”

“What? Was it a classmate?”

“For real? How lucky!”

Taiga pauses chewing on his super long BLT sandwich to see the other freshmen from the team talking animatedly beside him. It’s break time and he’s once again on the rooftop with them, despite telling himself before that it’ll be better to distance himself from the others and that he doesn’t need to get along with the team to play. Somehow though, between when he first stepped into Seirin’s gym with an air of arrogance and disdain that he still feels embarrassed about, and the countless, hellish training Coach puts them through in preparation for the Interhigh preliminaries, he’d found himself spending more and more time with them even outside practice.

Even though he still gets their names wrong sometimes, he genuinely likes them and he enjoys their company. Even Kuroko, who, true to form, is suddenly sitting in front of him like he says he’s been since they have all settled down to eat. Sure, there’s a fair amount of admiration for his skills, but there’s also actual conversation besides the fact he can dunk, as well as good-natured ribbing of his appalling inability to speak politely (Kuroko’s words).

“So do you think they’ll start dating now?” Kawahara says with obvious envy in between bites of his bento.

“I dunno! Maybe? Or maybe they’re like those pairs who want to date other people first. Like your soulmate, Kawahara,” Fukuda teases.

“Low blow, man! When I meet her, she’ll totally change her mind about dating some other guy!”

“I can’t wait to meet mine. She sounds really interesting!” Fukuda says. “Hey, Furi, tell us something about yours! Do you hear her a lot?”

“Oh, um. Mine’s not really… I mean, t-they’re not really a… a girl,” Furihata stammers through his reply, his voice trembling and lowering in volume with each word, like he’s afraid of admitting it and wants to take it back.

And in the sudden silence, Taiga remembers from long ago, said with disgust and a sneer, _‘Your soulmates are also guys! I don’t wanna play again with disgusting little cocksucking pussies like you two!’_

He opens his mouth, not sure what to say but needing to say something, but Kawahara beats him to it. “Oh, we didn’t know! A guy, then. Do you hear him a lot?”

“N-not really. I’ve only ever heard him maybe two or three times.”

“Really? Maybe your soulmate is actually an angel, Furi,” Fukuda says, prodding at the other boy’s shoulder.

“Or a goody two-shoes,” Kawahara says with laughter in his voice.

“Mine probably isn’t dating anyone else, Kawahara,” Furihata says teasingly, relief spreading through his expression, his mouth quirking from a frown to a small smile and his shoulders relaxing.

The three of them bicker some more, and Taiga’s once again left to his surprise from the realization of how _different_ these people he’s come to call his team are.

By the time the bell rings, Taiga’s already finished with his food and is feeling extremely grateful that they didn’t think to turn their questions towards him. He doesn’t even know what he would have said if they asked him the same questions they asked Furihata.

Maybe he’ll say something like, _“Yeah, mine’s a guy too. I hear him a lot. Or I_ used _to. I actually haven’t heard his voice in over a year now and I don’t fucking know why.”_ And maybe, just maybe, he’ll add something like, _“I miss him.”_

Yeah, Taiga’s glad they didn’t ask him. He’s almost certain he would have said those words with bitter resignation because maybe his soulmate doesn’t care much about him. However, that thought doesn’t stop him from whispering to himself, at night, alone in his room and a second from falling asleep –

“I don’t miss you.”

 

* * *

 

Their team breezes through the first four rounds of the preliminaries. Just as they’re cooling off from their fourth match, Shuutoku enters the court with the pompous air of a veteran team used to winning their games without a hitch.

And there, at the center of their group and with an aura of unmistakable strength, is, surely, a member of the Generation of Miracles.

He even has the weird hair color to prove it.

If Kise Ryouta is annoying, whiny, and loud, then Midorima Shintarou is an annoying stuck-up guy with a stick way, _way_ up his ass. Taiga just can’t _not_ introduce himself with a small greeting and his name written with permanent marker across the guy’s palm. Midorima has that haughty look of a guy who’d say _‘I won’t remember it anyway_ ’ to someone who tells him their name. So permanent marker it is.

Taiga’s beginning to understand just how arrogant these ‘prodigies’ are. Even Kuroko with his calm demeanor is hiding a prideful self, one who hates losing and being called a kid and having his middle school team insulted in one breath.

And while Kuroko has his passes and Kise has an uncanny ability to copy every move he sees, it turns out that Midorima has pinpoint accuracy. Kuroko said that he never misses, and seeing how he shoots each three without any difficulty and with precise aim, Taiga believes it.

It doesn’t mean he won’t do everything in his power to make him miss, though. Hell, he would _block_ his shot. And rub the fact that he did on Midorima’s snobbish face.

But first, they need to score a win against Seihou and their weird-ass playing rhythm in the game tomorrow. And take revenge for their senpai too.

 

* * *

 

He breathes in, feeling calm as he stands here at the middle of the court for the jump ball against Shuutoku and one victory away from the championship league.

_“I have nothing to say to someone who played so pitifully on his last match.”_

He lets the memory of the previous game and Midorima’s condescending voice fuel him as he jumps and grabs the ball for his team’s chance to make the first play.

Against Seihou, he unwittingly got drawn into committing four fouls and got substituted out of the game right after the first half. Midorima was right; Taiga had messed up. But he’s not going to make the same mistakes again. He’s piled up all the frustrations and turned it into the will to fight and win; to defeat Midorima. He needs to prove himself.

He won’t hold back.

But Midorima’s there to block his dunk, and two minutes into the game, he scores his first three.

“Please start running,” Kuroko suddenly says beside him, and without even thinking about it, Taiga does.

He steps on the paint, and with great timing, the ball comes shooting towards him from the other side of the court, from one of Kuroko’s quick, insane passes.

Midorima barely has the time to turn on his spot by the free-throw line before Taiga dunks the ball cleanly through the hoop.

He drops down and grins in the face of Midorima’s disgruntled glare. He and Kuroko say in unison:

“The match – ”

“– is only just starting!”

**

No one on the team, not even for a moment, thought that the match against Shuutoku would be anywhere near easy. Even on a normal day where they haven’t just come from an already grueling match, they would have still had a hard time keeping up with the King of the East and a member of the Generation of Miracles.

But this, he thinks with great surprise and disbelief as he stares at the ball arching sharply through the air as it travels from one end of the court to the other and goes unerringly through the basket  –

“I told you not to underestimate us. The whole court is my shooting range.”

– this is just _insane._

But Midorima doesn’t stop there. He sinks three after three without hesitation, each movement efficient and practiced,  and Taiga watches the gap on the scoreboard widen and widen with each shot.

Kuroko’s unexpectedly being stopped by the other team’s point guard, which means they can’t make the combination plays they used against Kise, and for each shot they do score, Midorima takes it back and adds more. Taiga knows that he should be feeling at least a modicum of despair and helplessness. But he doesn’t.

There’s a moment where Taiga wonders, _‘Will we win?’,_ but he thinks it with a grin and the thrum of challenge and enjoyment at playing with such a formidable opponent pulsing through his veins.

He can’t lose. He won’t give up until the very end. He’d realized, right after that match against Kise, that he’d won because Kuroko was there. He didn’t do it by himself _._ And he’d tried to keep the thoughts at bay, because didn’t he just think that he wants to belong with a proper team?

But there’s just something about the situation they’re finding themselves in right now, miles away from victory, that makes him want to _win, win, win,_ even if he has to do it alone. Because who else can stop Midorima besides him? _No one_ _in this team._

So _he_ has to move faster. Jump higher.

Faster.

Higher.

_Much, much higher._

_**_

_“You… what’s your horoscope?”_

_“Huh? I’m Leo.”_

**

It’s the end of third quarter and they’re fourteen points behind. No matter how much he’d scored and how many shots he’d stopped, the gap just doesn’t lessen.

 _More._ He needs to score more. He’d blocked Midorima once. Now he needs to do it again, and again, and again.

“Kagami, don’t get worked up like that!”

“Izuki’s right,” Captain says. “That last shot was way too rash. You should’ve turned the ball back and – ”

“So what if I don’t pass!” he says through his heavy breathing. “I’m the only one on par with them right now. What we need right now isn’t teamwork; it’s me scoring.”

Taiga tunes out the angry complaints from the others, but the stinging pain on his cheek from Kuroko’s sudden punch, he feels clearly. For a brief second he’s transported back to that time on the street court in L.A., when _Tatsuya_ did the same thing to him. The hurt mixes with the fury, and before he knows it, he’s already grabbing at the front of Kuroko’s shirt.

“You – !”

“Basketball is not a one-man sport.”

“You mean you’d rather lose as long as everyone enjoyed playing?! There’s no meaning unless we win!”

“But there’s no meaning if you win alone. You said you wanted to defeat the Generation of Miracles, but you think just like them,” Kuroko says, and even in the haze of anger, Taiga notices that his usual politeness has dropped from his speech. “And even if we defeat Shuutoku ‘your way,’ no one will be happy!”

“Shut up!” he snarls, throwing a punch that grazes Kuroko’s cheek and makes him stumble to the floor. “If we lose here, that’ll just be some feel-good nonsense!”

_He just wants to fucking win. If he doesn’t –_

“Even if you have a higher score than the opponent when the final whistle blows,” Kuroko says as he sits up from the floor, “if there’s no one happy, is it still a ‘victory’?” He looks up, and in his eyes Taiga sees hurt and pain, buried deep like it’s coming from an old wound.

 _‘Do you think that guy will still stay the same as he is right now when that happens?’_ Kise had said, and with a jolt, Taiga realizes that when his finger first made contact with Midorima’s shot enough to make the ball touch the rim, he’d felt a sense of certainty that he _can_ stop him completely. He can jump, and block, and score, and make them win.

Just from that brief taste of power, he’d _changed._ He’d felt he can do it alone. He’d forgotten the joy and excitement of winning against Kise together with his team.

“I’m sorry,” he says through the burning shame and guilt he feels in his chest, but he shoves the feeling of it aside. Later. He’ll deal with it and chastise himself later. “You’re right. It’ll be so much better if we win this together.”

He breathes in deep, then lets it out. _They_ have a match to win.

**

“I’ll have squid, scrambled eggs, octopus with eggs, kimchi, pork – ”

“What spell are you chanting?!”

“You ordered too much, Kagamicchi!”

“It’s okay. Kagami-kun will finish it all.”

To say that the atmosphere on their table is awkward would be an understatement. They’d gone to a nearby okonomiyaki restaurant (though in Taiga’s case, he’d been dragged then dropped on the mud by Kuroko) to see Kasamatsu and Kise already sitting there and eating. Then, as if the gods were playing a huge, cosmic joke on them, through the restaurant doors comes Midorima and the Shuutoku point guard, who he remembers was called Takao.

And now, because the rain is blowing hard outside and Takao is apparently also a little shit, Taiga finds himself sharing a table with Kise, Kuroko, and Midorima, whose team they defeated not even an hour ago.

They almost hadn’t won.

Taiga had been rash with his movements during the third quarter, and his legs suffered for it. By the time he got his act together, his legs were only good enough for stopping Midorima’s first three pointer and going for a dunk that had done its job of encouraging all of them to go on fighting. And after that, Kuroko had paved the way to their victory again, with his even faster passes and quick steals.

When Midorima had gotten hold of the ball three seconds before the end of the match, Taiga had felt a fleeting fear for defeat, but he’d forced his legs to move, to jump one more time, and he had. But with two seconds left, Midorima had read him and faked his shot, readying himself to shoot a buzzer beater that would cost Seirin the match. And with only a second left, Kuroko appears beside them to drive the ball away from Midorima’s hands.

Kuroko had saved them again. And now, Taiga only feels grateful for that fact.

“Midorimacchi, your food’s burning.”

“I don’t feel like eating,” Midorima grumbles beside him, and Taiga wants to punch him over the head for wasting such good food.

“I know you feel bad but… hey! You’ll get another chance someday!” Kise says, grinning brightly and encouragingly.

“We were beaten just a while ago!” He scoffs. “In fact, I find you hard to understand, Kise. Hanging around and joking with them like this. They’re the ones who defeated you.”

The carefree smile drops off of Kise’s face. “Well… It’s because I’m gonna get revenge at the Interhigh! I won’t lose next time!” His eyes glint with determination, and Taiga can’t help but mirror his enthusiasm.

He continues eating, needing to fill his hunger and replenish the energy he lost from the day’s back-to-back matches. He listens to the other occupants of the table with half an ear, hearing snatches of conversation about changing, going back to old selves, wanting freedom, and not playing basketball for fun. Taiga rolls his eyes at that. These bunch of people sure do like to be dramatic.

“You’re all thinking too much!” he says as he finishes his current serving of okonomiyaki. “Some of us may have different goals for playing, but in the end, basketball is something people _do_ because they like it.”

“You – !” Midorima glares at him out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t tell us what to think when you don’t even know us.”

Taiga’s just about to retort that he knows enough to know they’re all arrogant bastards when something round, grilled, and savory comes flying through the air to land on top of the Midorima’s sleek, green hair. He’s so dumbfounded by the ridiculousness of the image of it and of Midorima dragging Takao out of the store (“Come here, Takao!” “I’m sorry, no I mean it! I don’t know how that okonomiyaki could fly – _Ouch!"_  “Stop it with your lies!”) that he can’t even laugh like he wants to.

“It’s just as Kagami-kun said,” Kuroko says, seemingly off topic. “We’ll never get any better if we don’t find basketball fun.”

As Taiga spreads a fresh batch of batter on the griddle, he finds himself silently agreeing with his partner.

Soon enough, Midorima returns, looking marginally less murderous and his hair back to its usual pristine appearance, and they finish eating.

“There are two of the Generation of Miracles in the Tokyo district. I am one. And the other you’ll definitely see in the championship league,” Midorima says as he retrieves his bag. “His name is Aomine Daiki.”

Taiga freezes on his seat. He allows himself only a brief moment of breathlessness, a moment that apparently stretches on a second too long, what with the way Kuroko is looking at him with what could be slight concern.

“And,” Midorima continues, unperturbed by the effect the name he uttered had on Taiga, “he’s the same type of player as you.”

_Shit. Don’t hope, don’t hope –_

“I don’t get what you mean,” Taiga says, trying hard to keep his voice sounding normal, “but he’s strong, right?”

Kuroko is the one who answers, but he does so with an expression Taiga hasn’t seen on his face before. He doesn’t know how to interpret it. “... Yes, he is strong. But his style of play… I do not like it.”

They exchange a few more words, but Taiga’s already lost in his thoughts.

 _‘Me too._ _I hate basketball too.’_

_‘There are two of the Generation of Miracles in the Tokyo district… His name is Aomine Daiki.’_

_‘... Yes, he is strong.’_

Aomine Daiki.

Daiki.

Dai.

_What if…?_

**

Later, Kuroko finds a puppy abandoned on a box outside of the restaurant.

As his teammates and the coach _ooh_ and _aah_ over the little creature, Taiga crouches and hides behind the store sign, momentarily forgetting the afterglow of their victory against Shuutoku, his various bodily aches, and the niggling, defiant _maybe’s_ swimming in his mind.

It all comes back later though, when he steps into the cold and emptiness of his apartment.

 

* * *

 

The grueling study sessions Coach forces him to do over the next two days serves as a good distraction from thoughts Taiga doesn’t want to dwell on.

Through the evening, he pores over notes he doesn’t understand, reads books with more than half of the kanji he doesn’t recognize, and gets useless facts about mollusks and planarians drilled into his head only for it to be forgotten not even a minute later. Then he heads to class, groggy and barely awake, and goes back to Coach’s place in the afternoon to repeat the process of mental torture.

The dog watching him throughout it all only adds to his stress; every time he finds himself drifting off or his thoughts straying to _things_ , a sharp, yipping bark startles him from his daze. And though Taiga is half exasperated with it, he’s also half grateful. Because he definitely doesn’t want to think about ‘what if’s.’

Instead, he focuses on the looming exam. If he doesn’t get a high enough score, he won’t be able to play in the championship league and he won’t be able to find out if Aomine Daiki –

_Focus on the exam._

Try as he might though, when the day for the proficiency test comes, he can’t spare even an ounce of brain power on any of the questions printed on the piece of paper in front of him.

_‘Choose which of the four answers describes what the protagonist was feeling?’_

How the hell should he know?! If they understood how other people felt, then nobody would ever start wars!

In his desperation – because no way is he _not_ playing with his team – he uses Midorima’s special Rolly Pencil for fifty straight minutes for every single question on the last subject and hopes for the best.

 

* * *

 

They resume practice the next day.

They all managed to make it out of the remedial classes (and while everyone breathed a sigh of relief, Taiga felt like crying when he got his test results. He’d never imagined he’d end so low that he had to rely on weird powers from someone like Midorima, and now it feels like he lost to the guy). Coach doesn’t waste time and immediately sends the team through intense training drills.

Footwork, shooting practice, passing practice – basic moves repeated countless of times over. It’s good, tough training.

 _If only I can join in,_ Taiga thinks. It sucks, having to be told to rest this close to the championship league, but Coach has already threatened him with another of her wrestling moves if he so much as puts a foot on the court. So there he is, doing wrap ball drills around his waist as he watches sullenly from the sidelines.

Eventually, some of his teammates (mostly the juniors, he notices) move on to personal training. Taiga eyes the Coach, who is standing off the side and poring over her clipboard, and the other senpai busy with their own drills. He moves over to one of the free hoops and dribbles the ball, already feeling some of his restless energy dissipating.

He suddenly remembers Kise, with his copycat moves that’s even stronger and faster than the original, and Midorima, with his long-range, infallible threes.

Taiga thinks of Aomine Daiki and how strong he will be, whether he’ll be faster than Kise, whether he’ll have an impossible shot like Midorima.

And then, unbidden, a clear, vivid image of _that_ shot crosses his mind. He grips the ball, eyes the rim, takes a step back, and then jumps up and away, leaning farther back than normal. He watches the ball arc, but the shot goes wide and hits the backboard with a loud thump.

“Were you trying to do a fadeaway shot?”

“Holy sh– Kuroko!”

He straightens up and whirls around, expecting Kuroko to be staring at him with that blank, but definitely amused expression of his. However, Kuroko is staring at the ball rolling to a stop a short distance from them, and there on his face is a very strange look that Taiga can’t even begin to describe.

“Uh, Kuroko? Are you – ”

“Woof!”

Taiga almost jumps out of his skin. “This little shit!”

That seems to snap the other boy from his silent thinking, and he bends down to lift the dog that’s slowly inching his way towards Taiga. “Kagami-kun is scared of dogs.”

“I _hate_ them and I already told you that! But you still kept on shoving that furball at me!” Taiga says, embarrassed that his voice is rising to almost a shriek but knowing he can do nothing about it, because _dogs._

Kuroko and the creature both look at him with their wide-eyed stares. Taiga seriously hates them both. “Kagami-kun only eats cheeseburgers at Maji.”

“Uh, yeah? Because I like it,” he says, confused.

“You were also a returnee,” Kuroko says, and Taiga doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s getting a little worried. Did the guy hit his head when he collapsed during training earlier?

“What does that have to do with _hating_ dogs and liking cheeseburgers?”

There’s something like wonder and what could be hope dawning on Kuroko’s face, the look surprising Taiga. “Please tell me, have you ever heard – ”

“Oi, Kagami! You’re not supposed to be training!” Captain suddenly shouts from the other side of the court.

“I was just – ”

“Your legs aren’t completely healed yet!”

“But it’s alright! See – ” He puts pressure on his right foot, but the movement causes a slight twinge on his ankle. “Ow,” he says, more out of surprise than pain.

“You idiot!” But the captain mistakes it for the latter, and the coach joins in with the scolding that lasts for a solid six minutes.

During that time, Taiga forgets Kuroko and his weird (more so than usual) behavior.

 

* * *

 

Taiga will _surely_ get more than a scolding when Coach finds out that he didn’t stay home like he was ordered to and that now he’s slipping into the street court near school while the rest of the team are off training at the pool. He knows it, but he’s feeling too jittery just sitting around in his apartment to care.

He just can’t be doing nothing at a time like this. And besides, his legs are getting better anyway.

Or at least that’s what he thinks, until a sharp pain shoots up through his leg and makes him miss his shot.

_“Shit.”_

He doesn’t hear the footsteps behind him, but he feels something, a sort of disturbance in the air, and he’s already turning around before he hears it –

“Yo. You’re Kagami Taiga, right?”

It’s a guy. And as soon as Taiga sees him standing there, ball in hand and stance easy, Taiga notices several things.

First, _blue._ Not the light hue of the early morning sky, like Kuroko’s eyes and hair, but like the deepest depths of a dark, stormy sea.

Second, a heavy, almost oppressive aura that Taiga has never felt before.

And third… a _something,_ an intense warmth simmering low on his chest, a strange mix of excitement and calm. A quickness to his heart beat, an itch on the palm of his hand, like he wants to –

Wants to... what? (Reach out? Touch?)

They lock gazes, and Taiga’s breath catches at the shiver, there and gone the next second, that flashes down his spine.

The guy’s eyes widen, and there’s a brief moment where the two of them stand there just _staring_ at each other, before the other’s eyes narrow again, now in suspicion and irritation. “Play me. I’ll test you,” he says, and the way he does so, like he _expects_ Taiga to just roll over and cater to his whims, makes Taiga instantly shift from confused to _f_ _ucking annoyed.’_

“Who the hell are you?” Taiga says, hackles raised. “I don’t take kindly to guys who tell me to play them without even telling me their names.”

“I’m not asking how you feel. If I tell you to play, you play. But I’ll tell you my name at least,” he says, tone uninterested as he dribbles the ball he picked up earlier in a slow, steady beat. “It’s Aomine Daiki.”

“Aomine...?” he whispers in disbelief. And just like that, he hurtles back to ‘absolutely confused,’ his mind reeling… _This_ is Aomine?

 _“Dai...ki?”_ his mouth shapes the syllables, but no sound comes out. _This is Aomine Daiki?_

Should Taiga lie? See if the other reacts? Fuck, should he?

He will.

“I do– ”

The guy – no, _Aomine,_ is looking at him with a dark sort of amusement. He sneers. “What? Heard the name before?”

He won’t. Because _what if this is like all those times before when I got my hopes up just to have it crushed? What if he doesn’t hear me?_

“I’ve heard about you,” Taiga says, a slight tremble in his voice from frustration and rising anger (at what, towards _whom,_ he’s not sure), “but you can’t expect me to just say yes when you talk down to me like – ”

Aomine scoffs, loudly. “Come on now! I said I’m not asking. Just shut up and play. No one’s expecting a real match. I told you I’m testing you.”

Then all traces of levity vanishes from his face, his voice falling flat and emotionless. “I’m not looking for something that doesn’t exist, like a stronger player than myself. I just want to know how much you can do to relieve my boredom.”

Ah. Taiga feels it. The hot, boiling rage licking up his veins, making his pulse thunder, his fists shake, his jaw clench.

“From Kise to Midorima, the Generation of Miracles is sure full of guys who piss me off. But you're exceptional even among them,” he says, closing his eyes and breathing in deep, letting the red haze of his ire cloud thoughts of names and possibilities he doesn’t want to consider. When he opens his eyes, he thinks only of his resolve to defeat this arrogant jerk in front of him. Nothing more.

“I’ll crush you,” Taiga growls.

Aomine smirks.

**

_Strong. Strong, strong, strong, strong._

Aomine is strong.

Kuroko had said it, and Taiga had known it for a fact, that first time he laid eyes on him.

But to see Aomine in motion… it doesn’t feel like Taiga could ever win against him. And Aomine just stands there dribbling, nonchalant and casual, like he didn’t just run circles around Taiga’s defense, even though Taiga didn’t hold back.

Now Taiga’s panting hard and cringing in pain at the insistent throbbing on his right ankle, the ache increasing in intensity as he feels the rush leak out of him and the thoughts come slithering back in.

“This is ridiculous. Did you really beat Midorima?” Aomine says like he’s bored out of his mind.

“Bastard,” he hisses, grinding his teeth in agitation, and through the fraying tendrils of his anger, he can feel sheer disappointment sinking into him.

It’s clear to him now.

Aomine _Daiki._ It had sounded strangely _right_ , that first time he’d heard Midorima say it. But with every word that comes out of this guy’s lips, the hope he'd tried so hard to crush, but has still stubbornly crawled inside his heart, begins to shrivel.

“Tetsu's judgment must be clouded. _You_ can't possibly draw out his full potential,” Aomine says, but Taiga barely hears him.

There’s nothing at all familiar with this guy’s voice. With the exception of that last time Taiga had heard him, Dai’s voice had been so _bright_ , so full of emotion even when he’s hurting, but the eyes staring back at him right now is cold. His voice is low, and even though it’s not devoid of feeling, it is without a drop of warmth – just harsh intonations full of derision.

“He’s a shadow. The stronger the light, the darker the shadow,” comes the other’s voice, and _thumpthumpthump_ goes the ball. “In other words, he becomes stronger or weaker depending on the strength of the light.”

He remembers Dai, who’d cried and hurt as he said those things before, to others and to himself, and now he hears Aomine and he thinks, Dai wouldn’t intentionally be _this_ cruel and not feel bad about it.

“And you…”

This can’t be him.

A flash of blue, and a chilling whisper. “Your light is dim.”

Aomine Daiki isn’t his soulmate.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ ~~Tbh half of this I think I could have omitted, and another half I could have written better, but alas, this is the best I can do!~~
> 
> Guyyysssss thanks for all your support!!! I am both freaking out and melting into a pile of goo. <3


	8. revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Satsuki,” he echoes, chest tight. _A cutesy girl’s name._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the length lol. And the wait. And the weird pacing. And yeah, this thing is a mess (again!) so sorry for that too!
> 
> I hope you enjoy! <3

The sun is already setting by the time he arrives at his apartment door. His ankle hurts terribly, and he’s tempted to just collapse on the couch and call it a day, but he stops himself just in time. He doesn’t want an aching back on top of an aching leg.

He finally manages to limp his way to his bedroom, and as soon as his back hits the pillow, he feels the exhaustion settle heavily on his bones. He looks up at the ceiling. He’s so tired, like he played a full game and not a measly eight minutes of a one-sided match - and _fuck_ it's embarrassing, getting his ass totally handed to him in that short amount of time.

Taiga can tell though that it’s more than just a physical weariness. Because beyond that, he can feel the familiar sting of disappointment, clearer and harder to ignore now that he’s alone in the dark and quiet of his room. He should have been used to it, really. Heck, he actually thought he was, what with having had no reaction whatsoever when he heard a guy from his year being called _that_ nickname one day after class.

Out of nowhere, the memory of earlier comes rushing through his mind; every swift movement and dribble and shot, every smirk and sneer and thinly-veiled insult, and most vividly of all, his parting words.

Anger stirs in Taiga at the recollection. He hasn’t even been in the same space as the guy for long, but there’s one thing Taiga knows for certain: Aomine is such a fucking asshole.

It’s easier, thinking of him as _just_ ‘Aomine’ and letting the fury at being provoked and played with like he had been earlier cloud the other feelings. It makes it easier, no matter how marginally, to bury the disappointment. This time though, unlike all the other times before, he’d make certain to bury it deep; the deepest yet, along with that strange, brief moment of time when their eyes first met.

He’ll think of Aomine as just another member of the Generation of Miracles he has to beat to get to the top. And Taiga _will,_ if only to get the bastard to show anything besides his indifferent, arrogant expression and that _something_ Taiga caught a brief glimpse of, just for a second or two when he himself was lost in the realization of just who he was talking to.

The last thing he sees before his eyes fall shut, is the image of Aomine’s face, the harsh line of his mouth twisting into a sneer and his eyes narrowing, its blue dulling to a dark, flat hue.

Taiga closes his eyes –

 

The court is empty, dark, and cold. Through the thin blanket of fog, he can see a lone ball, and he wanders towards it, his steps unsteady.

He blinks, and sees a boy standing by the hoop.

“You like basket too?” echoes a high, lilting voice.

“Yeah!”

The boy runs up to him, and with each of his step, the mist around them disappears.

He squints, blinded by the bright sunlight now shining down on him.

“Let’s play!” the boy says, a grin on his face that he can’t see.

They play, and it’s fun. He’s the happiest he’s ever been.

_'What? Heard the name before?'_

He stops. “Did you say something?”

“You play good,” the boy says, back towards him as he takes a shot.

“Yeah, you too!”

It’s his turn to score, but there’s another whisper – ‘ _I’m not looking for something that doesn’t exist, like a stronger player than myself.'_ He misses.

“What’s the matter?” The boy turns towards him, his face oddly shadowed even through the light of the morning.

The fog is back, slithering slowly forward at the edges of his vision. There's a buzzing in the air. He doesn't know where it's coming from. 

“Did you hear that?” he asks.

A shake of the head. “Maybe it’s a _monster_ under your bed.”

“No… it’s – ”

The whisper again, bitter and hateful – _‘This is ridiculous.’_

The boy, quiet and resigned – “You can’t beat me.”

He looks up, and he sees a sad, sad smile on the other’s lips.

 

– and when he wakes up, he feels unsettled, trying to grasp onto the dissipating images and sounds from his sleep and wondering...

Why the boy, and the voice in his dream had sounded so lost and defeated.

 

* * *

 

“Kagami-kun. What happened?”

Of course Kuroko notices something. For the first time since they met, Taiga’s not surprised at Kuroko’s sudden appearance by his side as he’s trying to make his way to the infirmary on Coach’s vehement orders.

“You may be an idiot –  ” (Taiga protests loudly at that) “– but you’re not the type to injure yourself without a reason.”

Walking on his hands like what he’s doing now isn’t how he wants this conversation to go, so he drops down to his feet gently, wincing slightly at the brief flash of pain as he straightens up. “... I met Aomine.”

“You… did?”

He nods, briefly looking down at his shoes and missing the look of surprise and apprehension on Kuroko’s face. “It seemed like… he was your previous _light_. It sounded to me like you weren’t just ordinary teammates.” He pauses, meeting Kuroko’s unblinking stare, and blames his muddled dream for what he says next, “What happened between you in middle school?”

Kuroko looks at him, his expression darkening a bit before he turns to walk down the path. Taiga falls into step beside him, listening quietly as the other boy talks about their past, how Aomine and Kise had played each other countless of times before, how, out of the hundreds of members on the team, Aomine had loved basketball the most. It’s a little unbelievable, since the guy doesn’t exactly come across as someone capable of liking anything beyond himself, but Taiga keeps silent, and against his better judgment – because hadn’t he just told himself last night to think of Aomine as just someone to beat? What is he doing, asking Kuroko about their past? It’s not like he’d been particularly interested about Kise or Midorima. He blames the stupid dream and Aomine’s name - he finds himself burning with curiosity.

“None of the Generation of Miracles started off as extraordinary players,” Kuroko says. “However, Aomine-kun bloomed sooner, and more suddenly than the rest of us.” He pauses then, his face turned away as he whispers, “It was… frightening.”

 _This_ , this Taiga has no trouble believing. He has barely played against him, but from what little he has seen, it’s not hard to imagine how formidable Aomine is during an official game. The thought makes him shiver in anticipation.

“What Aomine-kun had always wanted was a rival, one he can play equally against,” Kuroko says in a low voice. “But the more he grew stronger, the more we won, the more people called him a monster, and the more Aomine-kun felt frustrated. He started missing classes and practice. I saw it happening, and I think I, no, _we_ were able to help him, at least for a little while.”

“But during Nationals of our second year, we played against a team,” Kuroko continues as they turn a corner. “Their ace was a top-level power forward in middle school. He’d given Aomine-kun a lot of trouble in their matches before, but that day, Aomine-kun had been just a tad bit more serious. The other team didn’t stand a chance.”

Taiga listens, and wonders at the trace of sadness and what seemed like _guilt_ on Kuroko’s voice as he goes on to say how after that match, Aomine had been convinced that no one else can beat him, how Teikou had dominated the tournament thanks to Aomine’s strength, and how the other had started to drift away, slowly getting bored with and maybe even hating the game.

It’s the most emotional he has heard Kuroko sound in the short time they’ve known each other. And it makes him think that Aomine really hadn’t been _just_ a teammate. That sometime before shit happened, Aomine hadn’t been the jerk that he is now. And though it’s a difficult concept to wrap his mind around, he guesses that’s it’s true; Kuroko seems to be a good judge of character after all.

“The others gradually changed too. Then because of a certain event at the Nationals in our third year, I quit the Teikou basketball team.”

They stop near the infirmary doors as Kuroko finishes his story, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

 _‘The more people called him a monster,’_ Kuroko has said earlier, and it had struck an unexpected chord of familiarity within Taiga. Because even though he hasn’t been called a monster to his face, he’d had his fair share of people throwing him angry glares and whispering harsh things behind his back just for being better at them on the court. He understands wanting someone to play with, someone who can challenge him in the sport that he loves. It’s an uncanny realization, the fact that he shares something in common with Aomine, and he doesn’t know what to feel about it.

But that aside, Taiga’s right. The Generation of Miracles are such a bunch of arrogant idiots! And the only thing he can really say about everything he'd heard is –

“The game got boring because he’s too strong? Ha! He shouldn’t get ahead of himself! And what’s with ‘ _the only one who can beat me is me?’”_ he scoffs. Taiga knows that he himself is strong, but he’s not conceited enough to think that he’s the _best._ He’d played in the streets of America, and he knows that there are always gonna be players better than him. That’s what makes basketball exciting. And it seems like Kuroko’s middle school buddies have all but forgotten about it, the arrogant jerks.

“Have you… not heard it before?” Kuroko asks, his voice taking on a slightly confused tone.

Taiga frowns. “Why the hell would I? Only you guys can spout something so ridiculous. It’s so hilarious I could bust a spleen!”

“Oh, I see.” Kuroko falls silent, his face unreadable under his furrowed brows. When he looks back up at him, his expression has gone back to blank-yet-amused. “And it’s ‘a gut,’ not spleen.”

“Whatever,” Taiga huffs, not thinking anything more of Kuroko’s earlier question. He then holds out his hand and closes it into a fist, like he and Tatsuya had used to do, and says, “We’ll win, and make that guy come back to his senses.”

He doesn’t know whether knowing all these stuff did him any good, but he does know this – they’re going to defeat Aomine. If not for the sake of accomplishing his own goals, then at least for Kuroko, because earlier he had sounded like he lost something, some _one_ , and he doesn’t know how and if he’ll get it back. In this too, Taiga feels a sense of similarity. It is, after all, how he feels about Tatsuya.

Kuroko stares at his raised fist with that same strange look from before, and with a smile and a softly whispered “Okay,” he meets Taiga’s fist with his own.

(And maybe, just maybe, this promise is for Aomine too. Because Taiga can only imagine how lonely it must be at the top (no matter how self-centered the thought is) and hate something that you used to love. No one deserves that, not even a jerk like Aomine.)

 

* * *

 

The team busies itself with practice and intense training during the following days, with Taiga spending half of that time healing and making sure that his leg would be in fit shape for the match against Touou.

(He thinks it’s funny, just fucking hilarious, that had Taiga not decided on going to Seirin, he would have been playing _with_ Aomine now instead of against him.)

And just like that, like no time has passed at all, he finds himself on the morning of the championship league shooting some hoops and working up a light sweat on the street court, the very same one where he got defeated soundly a few days ago. Nowadays, the memory of it only mostly brings him a deep sense of irritation.

He grabs the ball before it bounces off to the sidelines, dribbles towards the free throw line, and in the brief moment between going into form and releasing it, he feels the ball’s rubber surface under his hands, too rough, too scuffed, and well used. He lets go, the ball arching high and sure towards the hoop, and when he straightens, there’s no pain on his leg at all.

“Good.” Just perfect. Aomine better be ready, because they’re going to win.

**

Taiga should have known that something like this would happen. That asshole really is too far gone in his self-delusion and arrogance to think that he can underestimate Seirin this much by not even bothering to play from the beginning of the match.

In no way has his motivation dropped though. If anything, it pisses him the hell off. They’ll just have to open up a gap so large that the other team wouldn’t even be able to catch up. Then they’ll see who’ll be the laughing stock in the end!

“All right,” Captain calls out, “Let’s go all out from the start!”

The whistle blows. And then it’s tip-off.

**

 _‘I guess you could call us the opening act. Go easy on us,’_ his ass! They’ve known that Touou is strong, but they hadn’t expected it to be like this even without Aomine. They move not like a team, but a group of highly-skilled, individualistic players who’s united by their selfishness and whose only goal is to get the ball and score for himself.

A playing style that centers on one-on-ones and completely the opposite of their team who prefers not just to coordinate, but to attack _together._

Because of this, instead of pulling far ahead like what they have planned to do, they are the ones who are being pushed back and pressured. It doesn’t help that Kuroko’s rumored ex-girlfriend and Aomine’s supposed childhood friend is apparently analyzing patterns to their movements and predicting their potential, cutting off their strategies at every turn (it sounds totally insane, but she’s Kuroko’s middle school team’s manager and her hair is _pink;_ there’s bound to be something crazy she can do too)

But they press on, hinging their attacks on Kuroko’s unpredictability on the court and Taiga's still developing abilities. They continue their attacks relentlessly, because Touou is strong but they’re not at their strongest yet and they have to use every second that Aomine isn’t on the court to minimize the gap, if not to widen it in their favor.

So he runs, jumps, and dunks, all the while ignoring the slight twinges of pain on his leg as he moves.

_Ignore it, ignore it, ignore –_

“Seirin, member change!”

“Kagami-kun,” Coach calls from the sidelines, Koganei at her side, “switch!”

“What? Wait, why me?!”

He knows why though, even as he lies and says that he’s fine and it isn’t a problem, even as he sits on the bench to have his leg bandaged. Taiga knows, and it’s absolutely frustrating, because this isn’t the time to be sitting here and watching from outside the game as the digits on Touou’s scoreboard goes higher and higher and the clock ticks lower and lower until there’s barely a minute left on the first half.

But he trusts his team, and hopes they can hold on.

“Done! This should get you through the match. You can go!” Coach says.

“Thanks!” He wastes no time in putting his shoes back on, quickly standing up and throwing off the shirt he put on earlier. He makes his way back to the court, but Coach’s whispered _“I’m sorry_ ” makes him stop in his tracks.

And he listens, he truly does, but what Coach is saying hardly makes sense. She’s worried about having to rely on him when he’s injured and not being able to do anything else, but in his opinion, and he tells her this, she already does too much. It can’t be easy to make practice menus, scout, give instructions on the bench, and even take care of their injuries. And it’s not like he _doesn’t_ want to go back there. He wants to, and he needs to.

“And really, sending me off with an apology hardly amps me up,” he adds with a grin.

Coach stands up and gives a grin of her own. “You really are a brat. Alright, go get them!”

“Got it!” he says, turning back to the game. The buzzer rings for the substitution, but he doesn’t notice it.

Because he feels it then, that heavy, oppressive presence of a strong opponent that makes his blood pulse in excitement. A strong some _one._ And then it comes nearer, a weight dropping on his shoulder and beside him, a voice he’d only heard once before but one he already knows the lazy cadence of, saying –

“That’s it, show some spirit so you can entertain me even a little.”

“You – !” He flings the arm off of him and shoves the other away, not liking the closeness and how it makes his heart thunder faster in anger.

He straightens up, and there stands Aomine. And as expected, he has a smirk on his stupid arrogant face.

What a bastard.

**

The moment that Aomine steps on the court, it becomes evident to everyone in their team that he is different, that he’s on a whole other league than what they’ve faced before, even Kise and Midorima. Aomine and the whole of Touou clearly knows it too.

They have the ace of the Generation of Miracles after all.

Taiga glances at the scoreboard and curses silently. Forget about extending their lead - they’re already ten points behind and there’s only half a minute on the clock. Aomine got here at the worst possible time.

“Tetsu, it’s been a while. I was wondering what face you’d make. You look very determined.”

Aomine’s voice snaps him out of his reverie. Taiga tunes into the conversation too late, only catching the tail end of what he said, but the way Aomine’s looking down his nose at Kuroko is enough to make him fume.

“Yes,” Kuroko says, “I promised Momoi-san.”

Taiga doesn’t know what Kuroko is talking about, but Aomine seems to.

Aomine narrows his eyes, then scoffs. “I more or less get what you’re trying to say, but you’ll have to show me that with your play,” he says. “I’ll listen once you’ve beaten me.” Then he saunters off past Kuroko, and just as he’s about to pass Taiga, he looks at him out of the corner of his eye and sneers, “That is, if you can do it.”

“We’ll fucking show you!” he says to Aomine’s back.

Unbelievable. The longer Taiga hears this bastard talk and sees how he acts, the more he comes to hate his guts. But he can’t deny that it also makes it easier to silence what very little doubt he has left. So when the match resumes and he defends against Aomine again on one side of the court, Taiga thinks _only_ of beating him.

The ball makes it to Aomine’s hands in no time at all. They face off, eyes trained to each other, and then, faster than Taiga can blink, Aomine _moves._ A dribble between his legs as he steps to the left, Taiga following a second later, but by then, Aomine’s already doing a crossover towards the other direction, and just like that, faster than he can blink, Aomine’s already speeding past him. He cuts around Captain’s guard, and he would have just as easily scored a dunk if Taiga hadn’t jumped from the free-throw line and slapped the ball away from his hand.

There’s a sharp, yet brief spark tingling on his skin as they touch, one that gets lost the next second within the adrenaline of the match. And as soon as Taiga lands on his feet, he forgets it as he sprints off towards their own hoop, catching Kuroko’s pass and moving to do a dunk of his own.

But Aomine’s quick, quicker than Taiga has been, and the ball flies off of Taiga’s hand just as the buzzer signalling the end of the second quarter rings throughout the stadium.

Aomine heaves a huge sigh as he straightens up, saying almost as if in afterthought, “And here I was, planning on scoring one as a quick warm up,” then he turns to them, a smirk on his lips, “I thought you guys would suck, but you’re not too bad, huh?”

_Really fucking unbelievable._

**

They trudge out of the locker room, having rested as much as they could during the short halftime break. The walk back is a solemn one, all of them focused on their strategy for the second half.

All of them except Taiga, who finds himself rubbing the fingers of his right hand together for the third time since they stepped off the court, and not knowing why he keeps doing so.

Kuroko falls into step beside him. “Kagami-kun.”

He glances at the other. “Finally calmed down?”

“I am always calm.”

Taiga snorts. Yeah right. Not like the idiot hadn’t just made an unreasonable demand to be put on the court during the latter half of the game, even though all of them know the time restraints of his misdirection.

“Most importantly, I haven’t met Aomine-kun for some time, but like Kise-kun and Midorima-kun, he has probably improved. I no longer know what he’s fully capable of.” Kuroko looks at him, and says, “Please be careful.”

“Ha! That’s nice to know.”

They’re just about to enter the court when Kuroko asks, seemingly out of nowhere, “Your hand. Is there something wrong with it?”

He looks down, noting belatedly that he’s been absently rubbing his fingers again. But like before, he still finds nothing strange with it. He frowns and shrugs it off, moving to follow the others through the stadium doors. “Probably nothing.”

Kuroko hums quietly behind him.

**

Fast. Agile. And as Kuroko has said, incredibly dangerous and aggressive on the court.

It hasn’t even been a minute since the start of the quarter, but Aomine, with his speed and insane ball handling and footwork, has already danced around their defenses like it’s child’s play.  

But then Aomine starts moving the way Taiga has only seen players in the courts back in L.A.do – wild, formless, reckless but limitless. Streetball. And Aomine’s style is one of the best he has ever seen, truly unconventional and unpredictable. And as if confusing them with his messed up rhythm isn’t enough, it turns out that Aomine can also make a shot from anywhere and from any position: over the backboard, while jumping to the side and away from the hoop, and then _this._

“Yeah, yeah. You can jump high,” Aomine says as he does a fade-away shot, his body arched back, almost parallel to the ground.

The sight of it tugs at Taiga’s memory, of a day that started like any other, filled with boredom and indifference, and ended with him seeing a seemingly impossible shot, one that sparked in him an enthusiasm he hadn’t felt in a long while.

“But I’m already bored,” drawls Aomine as he shoots, the ball flying up and over Taiga’s arms to sink through the basket.

He has wanted to see it again - but he never would have imagined that he would be able to here, _right now_ in this match.

He has wondered if he would be able to block it – and apparently, he _can’t_. He wasn’t even close.

Taiga tries to take the score back, dashing across the court towards their team's hoop, thinking that if he can’t win against Aomine in terms of speed, then he’ll go higher. Before he even gets to take aim though, the ball is knocked off his hands, and once again he finds himself chasing after Aomine.

But in the wake of his earlier revelation, he is off-kilter, increasingly frustrated. Careless _._

He collides with Aomine in mid-air, and even as a shudder goes through him, even as the whistle blows to call him a foul, he already can see the ball arcing from behind and above him.

And Kuroko has said that Aomine never misses.

“Is this all you can do?”

Taiga looks up, having braced his hands on his knees, and there is a jeering sneer on the slant of Aomine’s mouth, anger and disappointment in his expression, but then Aomine blinks, and all that’s left on his face is cold nonchalance.

(It bothers Taiga.)

“The only one who can beat me is me," Aomine says. "You’re useless on your own.”

He feels so helpless, standing there and watching as Aomine saunters through the court and towards Seirin’s bench, Aomine's steps and his breathing even whereas Taiga feels like he can’t take in enough air.

“Come on out, Tetsu. Let’s settle this,” he hears Aomine say as if from a distance, his voice coming across as faint, and the implications of the name he has said gets lost in the haze of Taiga’s agitated thoughts.

He’s so out of it that he notices too late that Kuroko has already entered the court and made his way to Taiga’s side.

“Kagami-kun? Are you alright?”

He whispers without thinking, “I’ve seen him before – Aomine.”

Kuroko’s eyes widen. “You mean before your one-on-one?”

Taiga nods, chuckling humorlessly. “I saw him make that same shot and I swear to god I thought it was – ” he stops, breathing in heavily and releasing it in a weary sigh. “Never mind. It’s not important right now.”

Kuroko looks over to the Touou bench with an almost calculating look on his face.

“Anyway, _tch,_ sorry,” Taiga says, the apology catching Kuroko’s attention again. “It’s even harder by myself than I imagined.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” the other says as he fixes the bands around his wrists with focused care. “Haven’t we always intended to fight together? If it was that simple to win, nobody would need to work hard.”

“Ugh, whatever,” he grouses. But really, he’s glad for Kuroko being his usual cheeky shit. It brings him back to the _now_ , in this moment where it doesn’t matter if Aomine and the person with the amazing shot he’d wanted to meet and challenge is the same.

What matters right now is winning the game.

**

They do their best.

Kuroko being on the court does make a difference. They make his passes work, his steals, and they finally they're scoring again.

But Taiga isn’t Kuroko’s first ‘light.’ And if Taiga can catch Kuroko’s high speed passes, then it’s a given, a _certainty_ that Aomine will be also be able to. Easily, without even breaking a sweat.

And Taiga had thought before, after seeing that formless shot on the street court, that that guy’s basketball was beautiful. And now, seeing it up close and personal, he still thinks that it is. But Aomine’s basketball is also lethal in its speed and agility, attacking relentlessly and tearing through their defenses effortlessly, gracefully, and without any care to proper form or logic.

Like the rushing waves during a storm. Dark, powerful, and most of all, cruel.

And as he and Kuroko stare up at Aomine, after the other ace has breezed through the rest of the team and dunked over both of their heads, Taiga’s quickly coming to the realization that he’s no match against it.

“You haven’t changed at all since middle school," Aomine says as he looks down at them. "Which means you haven’t improved. Your basketball will never win against me.”

Aomine is just too bright.

**

He’s been trying to hide the ache since halfway through the third quarter.

He starts to fail at it at the beginning of the fourth.

And he fights against being substituted. Because he knows his bandaged leg is fine (but the other may not be) and if he goes out now while they’re so far behind –

_No. He can't.  
_

But there’s nothing he can do. Just standing there arguing is already taking a toll on him, making his legs shake in an effort to keep him standing.

So he goes out, sits on the bench, and stews in frustration and anger, at himself for being weak, at his leg for giving up on him, at Aomine because Taiga is not through with him yet, not by a long shot.

He sits there, seething in rage and helplessness.

And from the other side of the court, dark blue eyes stare right back at him.

**

They do their best. They keep fighting until the end.

 

But they were still completely crushed.

 

* * *

 

 

The defeat against Touou weighs heavily on all of them, and with Taiga benched and Kuroko not playing like how he used to - Aomine's words taking a toll on him too - they lose against Meisei and Senshinkan.

And just like that, their chance to play at the Inter High ends.

 

* * *

 

Taiga rests for two weeks after that.

He spends the time replaying parts of the game against Aomine. Recalling instances where he could have ran quicker, moved differently, done better.

He thinks of the fact that Aomine is the guy whose shot he’d admired from afar all those months ago. He wonders at the coincidence of it and if it changes things. He looks at the ball he took from that court, there on top of his desk, and wonders, and wonders, but no, he still thinks Aomine is an asshole.

Most of that time of forced rest though, he thinks of what he said to Kuroko in the locker rooms, right after their game against Touou.

_‘This might be our limit. I thought we could do better. But in the face of overwhelming skills, I don’t think we can win just by working together.’_

Looking back at it now, he realizes that he sounded harsh. But he’s always been clumsy with his words, and anyway, it’s a truth that should be said and they both should learn to accept if they want to be the best.

It’s by no means a desire on his part to stop working together. He won’t go there, not like Aomine did. Taiga has been supported by Kuroko so many times now, he won’t push him away just because of one loss. But maybe he’d been unconsciously depending on Kuroko always being there and making the ball come to him, and he can even say that Kuroko’s been counting on him too to always be able to catch his passes, no matter how crazy and lightning-quick it is.

It’s a system they’ve honed. But the game against Touou has made him realize that it’s not perfect and that they can’t win if they just keep on relying on each other like what they’ve been doing up til now. Both of them needs to improve their strengths.

Because to Taiga, it’s a fact that he’s weak and he stood no chance at all against Aomine.

He needs to be able to take an opponent on his own. If not to beat them completely in a one-on-one, then at least to throw them off balance and create an opening, an opening that - with the help of the others - they’ll use to force a way in and win.

So for now, he’ll keep his distance from Kuroko. They’ll each work through their weaknesses and arrive at a solution themselves, because he knows that the other is also thinking about improving, and Taiga wouldn’t let himself be left behind.

Stronger. He needs to get stronger.

 

* * *

 

Kuroko agrees with him. They talk it out, one night at the street court, and though they still haven’t come to a solution to each of their dilemma, they’ve ascertained the need to be stronger separately and combine even greater strength to win.

And Taiga finds out just why Kuroko picked _him_ of all people to be his new ‘light’ - his partner. Or rather, Kuroko apologizes and tells him that it didn’t need to be Taiga specifically, that it could have been just about anyone, that the other just used him to force his old teammates to recognize his style of basketball.

It isn’t anything that’s overly surprising, surely nothing worth apologizing over, because in a way, he’s been using Kuroko too. But he trusts Kuroko, something Kuroko tells him he lost from his teammates back in Teikou. And that has made the other rethink what it is he’s playing for.

Nothing has really changed at all. Their goal is still to be the best in Japan, only now, it won’t just be Taiga alone, it will be him, and Kuroko, together with everyone else from the team. They will become stronger, and defeating the Generation of Miracles will be the means towards that end.

And right now, they have their eyes set on the Winter Cup.

 

* * *

 

“Kise keeps on bugging me about you, asking if you’re okay and generally being a pest. Make him stop!”

They have just finished a successful, although tiring, training session, and now the first years are busy going around the court and cleaning things up.

“Is that so?” There’s a smile on Kuroko’s face as he pushes the score stand they used for an earlier practice match towards the storage room. It’s a barely-perceptible smile, but it’s definitely there, and for once Taiga can say that it isn’t his usual teasing _‘I-know-something-you-don’t-want-me-to-know’_ one.

It doesn’t stop him from being a little shit though when he clips Taiga on the hip with the stand as he passes by. “Ow! Oi, watch where you’re going, Kuroko.”

“Ah, sorry. I didn’t see you there, Kagami-kun.”

“Like hell you didn’t!” Taiga huffs, tucking the balls they used under his arms more securely and moving out of the way lest he be ran over next time. “Why doesn’t he just bother you?” he grouses, exasperated that Kuroko even gave the blond idiot his number in the first place.

“Kise-kun knows better than to do that,” Kuroko says, then adds, almost as an afterthought, “sometimes, at least.”

“Well, why is he so nosy anyway?”

Kuroko grunts, then dusts his hands off in a satisfied manner like he has done something greater than shoving a score stand over to the corner. “I guess it’s because I am Kise-kun’s soulmate and he wants to know that I’m doing okay.”

“I see – wait, _what?!_ ” Taiga drops the balls he’s holding in surprise and almost trips on one of them. “Kise’s your soulmate?!”

“Oh? Is Kagami-kun against people who have soulmates of the same sex?”

“What – _No!_ Mine is a guy too, so why would I be against it?” Taiga says, busy wrapping his head around this recent discovery that he doesn’t notice Kuroko’s intent, curious look. “I mean, I guess it’s just weird. Kise’s so _loud_ and bright and you’re kinda the opposite. Oh,” he trails off, then shrugs. “Though I guess I do see it. Kise is especially clingy to you and you don’t even throw him off half of the time.”

Kuroko stares at him. “Kagami-kun is being very irritating right now.”

“Why?!”

They finish putting the other equipment away in silence, which barely lasts a minute because Taiga can’t _not_ ask. It’s the first time he’d personally known someone who has already met their soulmate, and there are things that he hadn't thought to ask his parents _before,_ and asking his father now just seems wrong and tactless. “So are you two, uh… together?”

“No, we’re not.”

“Why not? Doesn’t he know that you're his soulmate?”

“I suppose he does know. Although we haven’t really talked about it openly, I guess,” Kuroko says distractedly as he puts the ball down and looks around the room for any more stray ones they’ve yet to clean up.

“But,” he starts, then scratches at his head in confusion, “why not just tell him that you _do_ know?”

Kuroko looks at him and chuckles, Taiga staring at him in shock. Eventually, the light sounds of his amusement die down. “I’m sorry, I just remembered that a close friend of mine asked me something similar like that before.”

“Uh. Okay?” Taiga mumbles, still in slight disbelief at having seen Kuroko actually _almost_ -laugh. “So why?” he asks again, because if you knew the other was your soulmate, why not just tell them that you know?

“Mm. I didn’t tell my friend the reason, but I think I’ll tell you, Kagami-kun.” There’s a small, wry smile on his lips. “Kise-kun likes someone else.”

Oh. That fucking sucks.

“Not really,” Kuroko says, and Taiga realizes too late that he said that curse out loud. "He is free to choose who he likes. And I’m not even sure if I want that kind of relationship with him, to be honest.”

“ _Still,”_ Taiga says, voice hardening unconsciously, “I get that a soulmate bond isn’t always a romantic one, but still, finding each other so early and then just pretending that you’re not each other’s soulmates? Why wait? You don’t know what the hell may happen tomorrow!”

And he wants to say more, how he can’t imagine how people can willingly go around and not choose to spend every moment with their other half, like they have all the time in the world to do it later. How Taiga knows that’s _not_ the case. That any moment life can fuck you over and take you away, or that suddenly you’ll feel as if half of you is being torn apart, slowly, then all at once and you try to scream but you can’t. And then what? You’ll live your life not hearing that voice in your head but feeling, deep inside you, a hollow emptiness that you can only wish will be healed with time.

How Taiga also knows that sometimes, though you both may still be _here_ and whole, it already feels like you’re running on borrowed time, like you’re losing him more and more with every week that pass where you don’t hear his voice and you don’t even know if he really is fine or if he’s just gotten so good at convincing himself that he is even though he’s not.

But Kuroko’s looking at him with wide, startled eyes, and Taiga bites his lip and keeps it all in, because this isn’t supposed to be about him.

“I’m sorry,” Kuroko says a few seconds later. “I didn’t think it would upset you.”

Taiga stays silent, hands clenched tight and eyes glued to his shoes.

“I do want us to both acknowledge it,” Kuroko continues, his voice low and soft. “But there are things we both need to do, feelings to overcome, before we can do so.”

When Taiga glances back up, he sees Kuroko fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, the small smile gone on his face.

“I do realize that we may be taking things for granted, because we know the other’s just a phone call and a short train ride away, but this is something we’ve mutually decided for quite some time. That we’ll wait,” Kuroko says, an expression of resoluteness settling on his face, darkening his eyes into that same look of persistence and unwavering resolve that he used when he told Taiga _‘I will make us the best in Japan_.’

Taiga sighs, leaning his head back and resting his hands on his hips as every bit of agitation leaves him as suddenly as it came. “I still don’t get it but… if you’ve both decided it, I guess it’s not really my business. Just,” Taiga says, rubbing at the back of his neck in sudden embarrassment for his earlier outburst, “at least tell him you're okay and shit.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

A beat of silence. “Kagami-kun is really kind.”

“Shut up!” he says, exasperated. He turns to leave, but before he gets the chance to reach the doors, Kuroko calls out to him.

“Kagami-kun, if you don’t mind telling me… have you met yours?” he asks, voice sounding oddly hesitant.

Taiga stops. He doesn’t let himself think of eyes the color of the darkest blue and names and chance meetings on basketball courts. “No, I haven’t.”

“Oh.”

He stands there, shifting his weight from one foot to another, before he finally asks, “Would I know when I do? Did you?”

Kuroko hums in thought. “I didn’t know it was him when I first met him. But I remember being blindsided, almost overwhelmed by his presence, even his eyes when he first looked into mine. Kise-kun being Kise-kun though, with his bright charm and looks, I didn’t think much about it.”

There’s a smile on Kuroko’s face again, this time even bigger than the ones Taiga has seen before. “He’s clingy, like you said, and whenever he leans over me or puts his arm around my shoulders, I felt content and peaceful, which was weird because Kise-kun can be quite noisy and irritating. And sometimes, even minutes after, it's like I can still feel his touch on my skin.”

“But how did you know?”

“I heard him lie right in front of me, and I just froze up, because I heard him in my head too,” Kuroko says wistfully. Then he looks at Taiga, his expression turning serious. “It may be different for you, but one thing’s for certain. You’ll feel a connection. An almost uncanny awareness of their presence. A _rightness._ ”

“I see,” Taiga says in reply, slowly, quietly. So quietly he can’t hear it over the sound of his own heartbeat.

They stare at each unblinkingly, and he wonders if Kuroko’s trying to tell him something, trying to tell him that maybe, maybe, _just maybe…_

Maybe he’d already felt it and he just doesn’t know it.

 

* * *

 

Finding out that Midorima and his team are staying in the same inn and using the same gym isn’t even the worst thing to happen in this training camp. No, it’s all the running back and forth alone on the beach that Coach has been making him do everyday since the start of camp. He doesn’t even get the chance to play in the practice match against Shuutoku because when he comes back at the end of the day, the match is always already over.

And to think he could have been playing against Midorima’s crazy threes again!

“Going to run again, Kagami?”

He looks up, seeing Kiyoshi walking down the hallway towards him, drinks in hand. The upperclassman has been back with the team for a couple of weeks now, but Taiga still doesn’t know what to think of the guy. Especially not after he challenged Taiga for the ace spot out of nowhere and asked all the first years to play on a practice match without even telling them why.

“Ah, no. I’m feeling antsy so I’m just going to shoot some hoops,” Taiga says as he finishes tying up his shoes and stands, grabbing the ball beside him.

Kiyoshi laughs, the sound of it warm and good-natured. “It’s nice being so young! Make sure to cool down properly after you’re finished though.”

“Uh. Yes, Kiyoshi-senpai,” he says, hastily adding the honorific.

The other man just gives another chuckle and claps him on the shoulder before turning back around.

In the distance, Taiga hears him call out, “Oh, Hyuuga! I had a feeling you'd be there. Here’s that Ramune you wanted.”

“I said I wanted Pocari!”

“I forgot! Haha, you know I’m kidding. I bought Pocari too.”

Kiyoshi’s weird, but not the bad kind of weird, is what Taiga thinks as he slides open the doors of the inn and steps out, the cold of the night a soothing balm to his sunburnt skin.

He heads towards the parking lot and stops in front of a lone basketball stand. He breathes in, and moves, letting the practiced motions of the drills calm his mind and bleed off his restless energy.

Eventually, he tires of the drills and plays against an imagined opponent. He makes a crossover to the right, a fake, a shot. Easy. The next is a drive to the left, and the defender’s faster this time, but not fast enough to stop his layup. The next one’s even quicker though, and Taiga almost gets blocked, but he doesn’t. And then that’s one more basket, and another, and another, each one getting harder and harder to make to the hoop.

With each shot, the vague outline of the faceless opponent takes shape and he starts to see familiar features – tanned skin, deceptively lean muscles, and dark blue hair. All too soon, Aomine is standing before him, a cocky grin on his lips.

 _‘The only one who can beat me is me,’_ he says, but his eyes look dull and bored.

This is how Coach finds him a minute later: panting, hands on his knees, thinking how even in his mind, he still can’t defeat Aomine.

 

* * *

 

It’s really different, the sheer scale of the stadium where the Inter Highs are being held. Taiga glances around and sees that the stands are packed full, and like their team, all these people are here to watch the upcoming game: Kaijou against Touou, a never-before-seen match between two regulars of the Generation of Miracles.

Basically, a match between Kise and Aomine.

They take their seats, and not a moment too soon, a sudden hush falls on the whole stadium as the players of both teams amble inside the stadium, the atmosphere turning expectant and thrumming with excitement.

He sweeps his eyes over the mass of blue and black jerseys, and when his gaze lands on Aomine, he sees that the other is already looking up at him. Or rather, he just coincidentally glanced in Taiga’s direction. Their eyes didn’t meet, and that prickling down his nape is only from the cold.

“The bastard actually showed up on time today, huh?” Taiga mutters under his breath. Down on the court, Aomine is already facing forward and walking up to the center line to face Kise, surely with that smug smirk plastered on his face.

Kuroko still hears him though. “Aomine-kun hasn’t once gone easy on Kise-kun, because he knows that he can't afford to do so.”

“Who do you think will win then?”

“I don’t know… This is the first time such a match-up will happen after all. It’s just that, Kise-kun started basketball because he admired Aomine-kun’s skills,” Kuroko says, voice taking on a tentative tone, “and they played against each other often. But never once has Kise-kun beaten him.”

There’s something about the way Kuroko said that that Taiga finds strange, but he doesn’t get the chance to question it, because not soon after that, the match starts in an eruption of cheers and noise.

From their seats high up in the stands, he can clearly see the movements of every player, each pass and block and shot. Kaijou starts strong, taking the lead until the last minute of the second quarter. And even though Kuroko has just said that Kise hasn’t won against Aomine in a one-on-one match, Kise clearly has gotten even stronger in the few weeks since Taiga played against him. Kise moves on par with Aomine, managing to read through Aomine’s eccentric ball handling and even blocking one of Aomine’s formless shots.  It’s almost a wonder how Seirin managed to win that one practice match against them.

Even as Taiga’s eyes stray or take in the court as a whole, he always finds himself getting drawn back to that black jersey and its dark red ‘5.’ And an Aomine that is serious – serious as he’s never been in the match against their team, against _him_ – is honestly a sight to behold. In no time at all, he has managed to single-handedly reverse the flow of the game.

It’s obvious though that Kise’s been planning something ever since their team has called a timeout, and in that brief moment where he stood there in the middle of the court, staring after Aomine’s back with a soft, almost defeated, but strangely determined look on his face and stance, Taiga comes to the realization that Kise is trying to copy Aomine’s style. A feat that he thought was supposed to be impossible.

And in the wake of that, he thinks he finally understands why Kuroko has sounded like that earlier, as well as the wry smile he had on his face back when he talked about why he and Kise aren’t together.

 _’Kise-kun likes someone else,’_ Kuroko has said.

As the first half ends and the buzzer rings almost deafeningly loud, Taiga wonders why he suddenly feels anxious.

**

Unsurprisingly, Taiga and the other first years gets tasked to buy drinks for the whole team. What’s surprising though is that he loses track of the other four not even two seconds after they exit the stands. This is usually what Kuroko does, not him.

Still, he continues down the hall in search of a vending machine. Who knows what Coach will do to him if he turns up empty handed?

He follows the flow of the crowd, but it’s slow-going. He can see over the people’s heads that the end of the hallway is crowded. Taiga spies an aisle branching off to the right, and though he doesn’t know where it leads, he walks down it anyway. Anything is better than elbowing people just so he can pass through.

Taiga finds this path thankfully empty, and he hurries down it, not wanting to be late for the second half of the game. The hallway apparently leads to an open-spaced lobby of some sort, and a little ways down the foyer, just past the entrance to another corridor, he spots the vending machines he’d been looking for. He would have merrily continued on his way over there, but something draws his eyes to the side, and what he sees makes his breath catch and stops him dead on his tracks.

Standing a couple of meters away, there in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows is Aomine, his figure tall, dark, and imposing against the light of the afternoon sun.

Taiga doesn’t move, doesn’t make a sound, but still, Aomine seems to notice him there, and Taiga watches with trepidation as the other tilts his head to the side, his blue eyes widening in surprise and recognition.

“Oh, it’s you,” Aomine says almost absentmindedly as he turns to face him fully. Then he frowns, voice turning haughty, “The hell are you here?” he pauses, glancing around them, “Where’s Tetsu?”

He bristles. “The fuck do you care?” _Wait,_ he thinks, suddenly confused, _did he say_ – “Tetsu? You mean Kuroko?”

Aomine looks at him like he’s stupid, which is offending because he definitely doesn’t look all that smart either. “Of course I mean him. Who else could I have been talking about?” And as if only just realizing that he’s having an almost normal conversation with Taiga, Aomine scowls and starts to turn away. “Tch, whatever. I got no time for you.”

Taiga feels his patience thinning at the obvious dismissal. “Listen, you – ”

A cold blue glare thrown over Aomine's shoulder silences him. “I don’t have to listen to you,” he snarls, then smiles humorlessly, “Remember? You haven’t beaten me.”

Without another word or glance, Aomine walks away, leaving Taiga standing there, quietly staring after him.

And willing his heart to calm the fuck down.

**

Kuroko sees him on the hallway just outside the stadium doors.

“Kagami-kun, you didn’t bring any drinks.”

Oh, right. But before that –

“You’re Kuroko Tetsuya,” Taiga blurts out, the given name unfamiliar on his mouth. After all, he only knows Kuroko as just that: _Kuroko_.

“... Yes?” the other boy says, seemingly so taken aback by the question that he fails to sound or look even remotely judging or teasing.

“So you’re…”

Wait. _Wait, wait, wait!_ So what if Kuroko’s name is Tetsuya? It doesn’t mean he’s the ‘Tetsu’ whose name Taiga has heard in his head once or twice before, just like it doesn’t mean that Aomine is his soulmate because his name is Daiki and he happens to also play basketball.

That’s just too many coincidences piled on top of each other, and if there’s one thing Taiga knows, it’s that he’s never been _that_ lucky.

“Never mind,” he says, angrily stomping off inside and towards the direction of their seats.

Taiga has suffered through the scolding of both coach and captain before Kuroko sits down beside him.

“Kagami-kun,” he calls just as the second half starts.

He gives a huff to show he’s listening, but half of his attention is already on Aomine as he darts from one goal to the other, so quick it’s like he’s trailing a blue haze of light in his wake.

“You can ask me anything,” Kuroko whispers, and Taiga breathes once, twice, before giving a noncommittal shrug.

On the court, amid loud and excited cheering, Aomine once again scores an impossible shot.

**

He keeps to the back of the group as their team exits the stadium, Kuroko keeping pace with him and seemingly just as lost in thought as Taiga is.

Moments from the match flash in his mind – Kise finally, successfully, copying Aomine; Aomine coming at Kise even fiercer, faster, like he wasn’t one more foul away from being taken off the game; and an intense exchange of formless shots, like there really were two Aomine's playing on the court.

It was amazing.

But in the end, Kise still lost. And Aomine had stood there like he wanted to help Kise stand back up on his feet, and Taiga remembers back when _they_ lost and Aomine didn’t even laugh and rub his victory in their faces like Taiga expected he would.

“Back there… he doesn’t really act all that happy, does he? About winning? Does he really wanna lose that badly?”

Kuroko, for once, doesn’t pretend that he doesn’t know what Taiga is talking about. “It may be more correct to say that Aomine-kun doesn’t know anything besides winning. To him, it’s a given, an expected outcome that doesn’t warrant celebration or joy. And he surely doesn’t want to lose, but…”

“But?”

“I can’t help but think that it’s something that he _needs_.”

“To lose to you?”

“No.” Kuroko glances up at him, his gaze meaningful. “To us.”

Taiga averts his eyes. Why does Kuroko’s ‘ _to us_ ’ strangely felt like ‘ _you_ and me?’ As if it’s actually important that Taiga be involved with it. “You think Kise is gonna be okay?” he says, a little nervously. “He looked pretty down about the results of the match.”

He feels Kuroko’s stare for a few more seconds, but in the end, he goes along with the change of topic with only a small sigh. “He will be. He’s not one to wallow in self-pity. And besides, his senpai at Kaijou are reliable; I have no doubt that they would kick Kise-kun back into gear if he takes too long moping.”

“I’m guessing it’ll be a literal kick in the ass,” Taiga says, not even having to fake a shiver of fear. Kaijou’s captain is just as scary as theirs. He’s still no match for Coach though.

“Yes, surely,” Kuroko chuckles. After a beat of silence, he continues, “I met Kise-kun during half time.”

“Yeah?”

“He said he’s ready to stop putting Aomine-kun on a pedestal.”

“That’s…” Taiga starts, unsure what to say, not expecting the other to just come out and say it like it’s not a big deal, “good, right?”

Kuroko hums in agreement. “I believe so. And he also said he wanted to talk to me, no matter the outcome of the match.”

By the smile Taiga can see on Kuroko’s face, it’s gonna be the good kind of talk, and he grins, reaching out to ruffle Kuroko’s hair. “I’m glad for you then.”

“Please stop, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko protests as he struggles out of Taiga’s hold. The small, pleased quirk on his lips doesn’t disappear though.

“Oi! Kagami, Kuroko! Stop dawdling or we’ll miss the train!”

“Yes, Captain!” they say in unison, hurrying to catch up to the rest of the team.

Kuroko and Kise will work things out, and even if they don’t end up dating, then at least they get to actually talk and acknowledge that they’re soulmates. He’s glad for Kuroko. And for Kise too. He is.

 _Really_ , he thinks and smiles, even as something in his chest tightens.

A something that’s getting harder to ignore.

 

* * *

 

The day starts out like this – he wakes up early, goes on a jog twice around the block, cooks breakfast, then tries to eat with his chopsticks left-handedly.

It’s something he’s taken to doing since the camp with Shuutoku – strengthening his legs and training the use of his left hand so that he won’t be totally useless and predictable in an aerial battle like Midorima said he was. Because if Taiga can’t beat them on the ground, then he’ll do so off of it.

He owes half of this realization to Coach, and though it pains him to admit, half is to Midorima. He has Taiga’s begrudging, though unspoken thanks.

After a messy meal, he cleans up and prepares to head out. He and the first years have decided to join a streetball competition, and though it’s ironic that they’re using the day they’re supposed to be taking a break from training to play basketball instead, Taiga is actually excited for it.

The sky’s even a nice, powdery-soft blue; great weather to play outdoor ball under.

All in all, a perfect start to what should have been a normal day. But it will later turn out that that day was anything but normal.

The day breezes by like this – with a blast from the past, a new meeting, and a remembrance.

And the day will end with a revelation, a realization, one that he thought couldn’t ever be true.

**

“Taiga? _I never expected to see you here,”_ Tatsuya says, his voice carrying that same pleasant cadence, only much deeper, more mature. “ _What a surprise.”_

It  _is_ a surprise, at least for him; Tatsuya doesn't seem taken-aback with their meeting at all. He also doesn't seem like he missed Taiga, meanwhile it's all Taiga can do to keep from going to his side and hug him until he can't breathe.

Instead Taiga stands at a distance and just looks. That's when he notices that there’s an air to Tatsuya, new yet familiar, that tells Taiga that he’s gotten stronger. Maybe not in the league of the Generation of Miracles, but definitely close.

His smile hasn’t changed at all though. There's still that small quirk on his lips that’s open and inviting, but at the same time closed-off and hiding who knows how many secrets.

The others are naturally curious, and it’s Kiyoshi – here as a replacement because Kawahara was sick – who asks if Tatsuya is Taiga’s friend. It’s almost funny, how years of his life spent in the States could be summed up in just a few minutes, like it didn’t change him, like it didn’t shape who he is now.

“It’s almost a shame that we didn’t get to compete there to settle things. But we’re here now,” Tatsuya says, now in Japanese, “I think today’s the best time to fulfill our promise, don’t you agree, Taiga?”

Does he? He’s ashamed to think that ever since he’s gone back to Japan, Taiga hasn’t given much thought to how he should answer Tatsuya’s ultimatum, given all those years ago when they were younger and stupider. He’d thought he’d still have years to mull over it, and that Tatsuya would change his mind by the time they meet again, but as usual, fate has other plans for him. And Tatsuya’s still as stubborn as he was before.

His indecision earns him a punch from Nigou and a severe reprimand, both courtesy of Kuroko, the little shit.

Kuroko’s words – “No matter what you felt, it’s wrong for a sportsman to intentionally lose. This is the game both of you were supposed to love. No one can walk away satisfied when your rival gave the game away on purpose.” – rings loud and heavy, like he’s said it before.

And he agrees with everything Kuroko said. So with a clenched fist and a determined look, Taiga makes up his mind.

Today, he’ll face Tatsuya as an opponent, not a brother.

**

“Oh? Kuro-chin?” says the newcomer, “You look dead serious as always. That expression...” he grins as he extends a hand towards Kuroko, “Makes me want to crush it.”

This man – Murasakibara Atsushi, it seems – who suddenly appeared in the middle of their tip-off and disrupted their game, is _huge._ And even without the ridiculous hair and his familiarity with Kuroko, his insane, sheer presence alone just about screams that he’s a member of Kuroko’s middle school team.

And it turns out that this guy is another fucking Miracle with yet another attitude problem. Taiga’s starting to think that it’s the real requirement for being called that stupid title.

But it doesn’t mean that Taiga’s just gonna let the chance to play him pass by. So he goads him, and as expected, Murasakibara falls for it.

So now they’re playing in the championship match, and Tatsuya’s form is still as polished as before, maybe even better, that the sight of it makes all of them space out for a second, just staring after his shot.

But they manage to take the ball back and get it in Taiga’s hands. It angers him, seeing Murasakibara standing there under the hoop, unmoving like a goddamn pole, and so he charges on, maybe a little recklessly. And in the time before he steps on the free throw line and the weather makes an abrupt change and the first, fat drops of rain fall on his face, he feels an imposing pressure from Murasakibara’s outstretched hand, almost enough to freeze him on his spot. He knows then that no matter how childish Murasakibara acts and talks, when on the court, he isn’t someone to be messed with.

The referee cancels the game.

And just when he's about to complain, it happens. Out of nowhere, Taiga hears him, a voice so long missed, he thought he’d already forgotten how he sounded like. But he hears it, and he recognizes him, and Taiga's breath catches –

<I’m not even injured! I don’t want you meddling in whatever I do, Satsuki! I don’t wanna see your face again!>

“How is he?” Tatsuya says, startling him.

“What…?” he mumbles, feeling unsteady.

There’s a smile on Tatsuya’s face, and Taiga’s never been able to read him that well, but this time – because of the rain or his clouded mind, he’s not sure – it’s even harder to tell whether it’s a sincere one or not. “Dai-chan – ah! It’s Dai-kun now, right? You always get that faraway look on your face whenever you listen to him," he says.

“He’s…” Injured. Hurt. Angry. Upset.

_Oh god, he’s injured._

“Well, this is disappointing,” Tatsuya sighs. “It feels wrong to end it like this. After all, it’s our long-awaited reunion.”

He dribbles the ball and stands in front of Taiga. “How about I show you a souvenir? Something you’ve never seen from me. Stop it if you can,” he says, a smile on his face as he takes aim.

Taiga moves to block without a second thought, but even though it has seemed like just a normal jump shot and thus easily stoppable, he finds that his timing is off, and the ball passes through his defense and goes through the hoop.

Smoothly. Flawlessly. He can only gape at it in surprise.

“See you in the Winter Cup, Taiga,” says Tatsuya as he and Murasakibara walk away.

He feels a heavy weight settle on him, making him more tired and weary than he should be. It’s from the force and cold of the rain. From Tatsuya being so near after years of no contact and him not replying to any of Taiga’s messages, but yet still feeling so distant, like they’re strangers and nothing more. But more than that… it’s the voice, and the lies, and the thoughts running through his mind –

_Is he okay now? Why was he hurt? Why hide the pain and what, oh just what are you so desperate for?_

_I’m not worried,_ Taiga tells himself as the rain falls harder on his skin. And it’s a lie too, but it’s one that he just can’t say out loud.

**

Coach’s message read, _‘Head back to the gym. Bring Kuroko-kun. Hurry.’_ It sounded so urgent that as soon as they’ve replaced their wet clothes with dry ones, they immediately board the train back to Seirin.

They expected an emergency of some sort – maybe another failed attempt at cooking by Coach and actual dead bodies. But what greets them as soon as they open the doors to the gym is a shrill cry and a pink blur, and suddenly Kuroko’s on the floor, the manager of Touou sobbing on his shoulder.

After much fanfare and some jealous remarks aimed at Kuroko, she finally calms down enough to tell them why she’s here. Or as calm as she possibly can as she cries, “What should I do, Tetsu-kun? I think… I think Aomine-kun hates me now!”

So this Momoi calls Kuroko ‘Tetsu’ too. How weird.

Just as the seniors trudge inside the court, dripping from running around outside in the rain – why were they doing that in the first place? – Momoi says, “Aomine-kun was absent from this year’s Inter High semi-final and final matches.”

“We’ve heard about that. But why didn't he?” Captain asks as he towels his hair.

Taiga thinks it must be because the guy thought it was a waste of his time, saying that shit about the only one who can beat him –

“He injured his elbow.”

_...What?_

“Mm,” Coach hums from where she’s standing beside Momoi’s chair. “I do have an idea where he got that. That quarter final match against Kaijou’s Kise-kun, right?”

Momoi blinks up at her in surprise, then pouts. “Y-yes. But why do you know that? You’re just a B-cup!”

“Why bring that up, you little brat!” screeches Coach.

Over the two girls’ squabbling, Kuroko talks about how, if there is something that can be called the common weak point between the Generation of Miracles, it’s that they’re too powerful, their great talent far beyond what a high school boy should be capable of, all while having the physique of a boy their age.  

“Their skills are too much of a burden on their present bodies,” he continues. “And so none of them can actually use their power to the fullest for long periods of time. If they try to, their bodies will pay the price.”

Kuroko says all these, but Taiga's having trouble following his words, stuck as he is thinking about all the coincidences that he's been dismissing as _just_ that and nothing more. But maybe it's not just that - the names, that moment their gazes first met, the spark of their accidental touch and the ghost of it after, the random meetings, the knowing that the other's _there_. Everything.

“Yes, Aomine-kun is no exception,” Momoi says as she tugs at her hair in agitation. “Against Kise-kun, he did everything he shouldn’t! He tried to hide it, but I noticed and so I told Coach. He was banned from playing, and he made a scene when he found out.”

She sniffs, her hand now clenched on the shirt she borrowed from Kuroko. “And a while ago, he found out that I was the one who told Coach. And then he said he’s not even injured! As if I’ll believe his lying ass!”

With sudden clarity, he remembers - _'_ _I’m not even injured!’_

“He got so angry. He told me that he doesn’t want me meddling in whatever he does!”

 _‘I don’t want you meddling in whatever I do, Satsuki!_ ’

“That he doesn’t want to see my face again!”

_‘I don’t wanna see your face again!’_

“He even called me ugly! _Stupid_ – ”

“He didn’t mean it.”

“– _Ao_ … What?”

“He didn’t mean what he said,” Taiga repeats, but his voice is hardly any clearer or stronger than when he first said it. He thinks it’s actually trembling. He feels everyone’s eyes on him, but his is fixed on Momoi.

_Momoi._

“You… Momoi, uh, - _san_. What’s your name?”

“My name?” she asks, confused. “It’s Satsuki.”

“Satsuki,” he echoes, chest tight. _A cutesy girl’s name._ He then looks at Kuroko. “Aomine calls you Tetsu.”

“… Yes.” Kuroko stares back at him, a small, knowing and sad smile on his face, and in that moment Taiga finally understands what those looks, those strangely pointed words, were all about.

 _Ah._ This is really it. His proof.

He turns back to Momoi. She’s standing up now, and Taiga thinks of all the times he has heard her name in his head. It’s as familiar to him as _his_ nickname, but here in front of him, she’s but a stranger. _He_ is too; it doesn't matter that Taiga knows that he hates bees and likes teriyaki burgers, how he sneaks out of his house during summer to catch cicadas and crayfish, how he likes sleeping in and doesn't like studying, how he likes to play with his childhood friend and how he really thinks that she's pretty, and how much he loves basketball, that he loves it the most.

Taiga swallows hard. “Sa – Momoi. Before… when you were kids, what did you use to call him?”

She doesn’t answer. There’s a frown on her lips, a perplexity in her face, but even Taiga can see it slowly being overshadowed. By a realization, a hope. “Kagami-kun,” she whispers, tone shaky. “Why are you asking?”

Absently, he notices that it’s just the two of them standing there, the others most probably having been herded away by Kuroko. He’s thankful. He doesn’t them to see him like this.

Taiga breathes in, but even now, minutes after the discovery, it’s still hard to. It’s like his whole body is numb, like it's being squeezed so tight he feels he's going to burst, or break down. “He said, many years ago…” he pauses, finding it easy to remember the words and the feelings that accompanied it even after so much time has passed, even after all the things that have been said after that.

He had sounded _so_ embarrassed. He smiles at Momoi, but it cracks the next second, and from her eye, a lone teardrop falls. “That he doesn’t like being called Dai-chan.”

In front of him, Momoi cries.

**

It’s funny.

For all that he’d wanted them to meet, to find out they're each other's soulmate, he has never really given thought to the _how._ He’d just assumed that they’ll find out at the same time, together, maybe on a basketball court. Then they’ll both be happy, and that’s it.

But he finds out first. With the childhood friend, no less. And instead of being ecstatic about it, Taiga feels...

Conflicted.

Never would he have thought that his soulmate would be someone he hated from their first real meeting, someone he'd called arrogant, and a bastard, and an asshole.

Never would he have thought that his soulmate would be someone who, in the short and few times they’ve met, had only looked and talked to him, if not with indifference, then with hostility and disdain.

They really are a pair.

Later, Taiga will wonder. What exactly happened in Teikou? What made him say those words? What made him hate, and cry, and shut Taiga out?

And what the fuck should Taiga do?

But for now, as he lies on his bed in the dark, he whispers, “Aomine Daiki.”

He breathes, “Daiki.”

He chokes out, “Dai.”

It almost leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

 

* * *

“Are you – ”

“Kuroko. You knew.”

“No. All I had were suspicions... And hope.”

“... He’s not fine.”

“... I know.”

“ _Shit.”_

“... What are you going to do?”

“Haha, I’m just an idiot, so it’s simple, really. _Win_. I need to win.”

“I see. I will help you.”

“Yeah, I’ll count on you. That guy… it’s time to wake him up.”

He'll think of the what's and the why's and the 'should I's' after that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and the comments and the bookmarks and the follows. Everyday I see them and I freak out but also I squee real hard and ashfljgjlk I don't deserve this! You all are great <333
> 
> /cries


	9. red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I found you. ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UHHH. These chapters just keep getting longer and longer don't they? /sweats
> 
> Anyway, here, just have it I can't look at it anymore T_T And also, *insert my usual apologies here.*
> 
> Enjoy?

* * *

_“Seirin will be at the sports gym, doing drills in the pool. Kagami Taiga-kun will most probably be in the street courts near here,” Satsuki says as she hands him a scribbled map. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Aomine-kun. He’s injured and – ”_

_“I don’t care. Just wanna see who beat Kise and Midorima.” He’s curious to see who Tetsu replaced him with. And more importantly, he’s bored out of his mind._

_He takes the piece of paper and leaves. One look at the map and he knows where he’s going. It’s that court he used to go to, a couple of blocks from his house and right across the street from the konbini. He ambles down familiar streets and passes by the corner where the slightly-tilted streetlight still stands._

_Somehow, he feels him before he hears or sees him – a strong presence, bright and warm._

_“Yo. You’re Kagami Taiga, right?”_

_Their eyes meet, and Daiki forgets how to breathe for a second, or two, or thirty. He shivers, and then the air comes rushing back in, making him lightheaded, making his heartbeat thunder until its thudding almost painfully against his chest._

_He’s confused, disoriented. Wants to come closer and run the fuck away, fast._

_But his legs don’t move. So he stays in place and says in the haughtiest tone he can muster, the one Satsuki hates, “Play me. I’ll test you.”_

_“Who the hell are you?” Kagami growls, teeth bared in a snarl. “I don’t take kindly to guys who tell me to play them without even telling me their names.”_

_Something about the tone of his voice, angry and with a hint of contempt, unsettles Daiki, but he keeps his face blank as he dribbles the ball that has rolled to his feet earlier. “I’m not asking how you feel. If I tell you to play, you play.” A pause. Then, spilling from his mouth without further thought, “But I’ll tell you my name at least. It’s Aomine Daiki.”_

_The change in Kagami’s expression is instant, the anger melting into disbelief and something not unlike fear. He knows who Daiki is. Knows he’s a mons–_

_“What? Heard the name before?” He sneers, his voice dripping with ugly disdain. He pushes, and mocks, and goads the other back into the rage he was in earlier, when his eyes were blazing and the color of a crackling fire. It’s better than the look that has clouded the other’s face when he heard Daiki’s name._

_“I’ll crush you,” Kagami finally says through gritted teeth._

_Daiki smirks. He likes that look of fury on Kagami’s face. Maybe this guy can..._

 

_...But no, his light is still too dim._

 

_(When he sleeps that night, it’s to dreams of red.)_

* * *

 

Daiki doesn’t know how long he’s been aimlessly running around, weaving through streets and alleys, calling out Satsuki’s name and wondering just where the fuck she went.

It feels like hours. Hours since he fucked up (again) and realized a second too late that he did. Hours since he followed after her just to lose sight of her when she rounded a corner and disappeared amongst the crowd and all their dull colored and patterned umbrellas.

And now he’s standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk, lost, drenched, and shivering, with the thread of panic he’s been trying to ignore curling tighter and tighter around his chest with every second that passes that he doesn’t see a speck of that familiar bright pink that is uniquely hers.

“Satsuki!” he shouts, turning his head side to side and searching frantically through the mass of people around him. More than one passerby shoots him a scandalous look, but they all give him a wide berth when he starts to curse loudly and stomp his foot in frustration.

_Where the fuck is she?_

The sound of the August rain falling even harder over and around him is his only answer. He has always hated the rain as a kid because it means not being allowed to go out to play ball, but as he grew older, he has come to hate the gloom too, the cold as it seeps into his skin, deep into his bones, and the memory it brings up of perhaps his biggest fuckup yet, of pushing Tetsu away with words he both did and did not mean.

And it seems he just can’t learn his lesson, can he? Doing the very same thing to Satsuki... Satsuki, who stayed with him when she could have left his dumb, ungrateful ass and followed Tetsu to Seirin. Satsuki, who has always been there and has never once deserved all the shit he puts her through, no matter how unintentional he does it.

_And what if,_ he thinks with no small amount of worry and guilt, _what if this time is the last straw? What if I’d pushed her away one too many times and now she’s going to leave for good?_

Then he’d be really, truly alone, won’t he? God, he wants to laugh.

Someone from the crowd suddenly bumps into him, sending him stumbling to the side. “Don’t just stand there like an idiot, kid!” the guy calls angrily over his shoulder as he hurries away.

Daiki would have grabbed him and given him a piece of his mind, but his right elbow reminds him that he’s fucking injured and he’d be in a bigger mess if he decides to go ahead and rearrange the guy’s face. He clicks his tongue in irritation and takes cover under the roof of a nearby convenience store, wrapping a hand around his elbow and pressing lightly against the joint.

He winces.

The pain is yet another reminder of how he ended up here in the first place. Playing the way he did against Kise (recklessly, even he has to admit) was a given; he couldn’t afford to _not_ take him seriously, especially when Kise went ahead and copied _Daiki’s_ style and used it against him.

And that fucking stings, the fact that Kise feels he can only get close to beating Daiki if he copies him. The whole match against Kaijou was really just a proof of how true it is that the only one who can beat him is him.

It’s frustrating. And it had only added to the long line of disappointments and victories that are all he has known of for far too long. Even Tetsu, and his so-called new partner, his new ‘light’... Even they weren’t enough. He’s getting sick of it.

The finals match against Akashi was the only thing he had been looking forward to. It wouldn’t have been the same, playing against another ‘Miracle,’ and sure, Daiki is stronger than Akashi, but he has absolutely no doubt in his mind that his old captain would have made things hard for him, keep things at least a little bit interesting because Daiki is just so desperate for a challenge that he’ll take what he can get.

But because of this stupid injury, he didn’t even get the chance to have that match. Because of this stupid injury, he’s dripping wet, his teeth are chattering from the cold, he feels terrible, and he hates himself just a little bit more.

Oh yeah, and Satsuki’s still nowhere to be found.

He sighs, rubbing warmth into his aching elbow and his arms dotted with goose bumps, and stays under the convenience store roof as he watches the sky turn a shade darker. Eventually, the rain starts to dwindle to a slow drizzle. With a sigh, he leaves his dry and only slightly warm shelter and walks down the street, grimacing as his shoes make disgusting squelching noises with each step.

It’s getting late, he realizes with a shiver. And he still doesn’t know where to look for Satsuki next. Should he go back to the school? Retrieve their bags and see if Satsuki returned there? Or should he just head directly to Satsuki’s house? Maybe she already went home?

He looks across the street. There’s a person heading the opposite way, holding above their head a red umbrella, its vibrant color such a startling contrast to the dreariness of the surroundings that he stops in his tracks and turns, staring curiously after it, drawn to it’s bright hue.

And that’s when he sees her crossing the intersection he passed just minutes ago. He’s running before he knows it, making huge splashes as he steps over the puddles on the sidewalk and ignoring the angry yelling behind him.

He could very well have missed her if he hadn’t looked back that very second.

“Satsuki!”

Bright pink eyes widen at him in surprise. “Dai-chan?!”

He skids to a stop in front of her, his hands clenched and lips pursed, and he wants to demand where the fuck she’s been, what was she thinking, running off into the rain like that? He wants to tell her how glad he is that she’s safe and how sorry he is for acting dumb and reckless and selfish and then tell her to _don’t leave like that again,_  but before he gets the words out, his breath gets knocked out of him by the arms wrapping tight around his waist in an embrace that is both familiar and not.

Familiar, because Satsuki always clung to him like this when they were younger and she was upset. And not, because they stopped being kids long, long ago.

Still, he finds himself hugging her back just as tightly… maybe just a tad bit tighter.

**

It’s already dark when he finally drops Satsuki off at their place next door, and Daiki himself comes home to an empty house, just like he expected he would. He knows without looking that there’s a note on the kitchen table and food on the fridge to be heated for later. Like usual.

He’s more tired than hungry tonight though. Like usual.

He hurries upstairs, eager to get out of his damp clothes, and he falls asleep on the bath again, only jolting awake when he hears their front door open. Figuring Satsuki invited herself over again, he gets out – instantly missing the warmth of the water – and dresses in the baggiest shirt and sweatpants he owns.

When he comes back down, Satsuki has already made herself comfortable on her favorite spot on the couch, her back against the armrest, legs pulled up, and her chin resting on her knees. She has changed into clothes even shabbier than his, her wet hair wrapped around a towel curled high on top of her head.

Under the brightness of the living room light, the puffiness and redness of her eyes are much more obvious. How many times has he caused that? He’s such a dick. He drops on the other end of the couch heavily and roughly towels his hair dry.

The sudden, tentative hold on his arm startles him. “Does it hurt?”

“No, it…” Daiki trails off at the stern look Satsuki shoots him. “... A little.”

She frowns, nudging the sleeve of his shirt up and examining his elbow as she turns his arm gently this way and that. “It’s good that the swelling has gone down. But you should wear a sling – ”

“No.”

“ – _or_ an elbow sleeve.”

“... Fine,” he concedes. The sleeve, at least, he can hide under the uniform.

Satsuki just shakes her head at him, and the next few minutes pass by in silence. Outside, the rain has started up again, its drops beating rhythmically against the window. It’s the very same window that Satsuki broke when they were kids and which both their mothers scolded them for. Satsuki cried like a crybaby then.

He sneezes. Loudly.

“Sorry,” Satsuki says, her voice low and quiet, “for running off like that earlier.”

He sniffs, wiping his nose on his sleeve and ignoring Satsuki’s grimace. “It’s…” _not your fault, I shouldn’t have been stubborn and I didn’t mean what I said_ – but the words don’t come out like always. Instead he looks at her, hoping she understands, “I was a jerk.”

The ‘again’ and ‘sorry’ hangs unspoken in the air. Beside him, Satsuki chuckles and Daiki knows he’s been forgiven. He feels so relieved, yet so, so guilty about it. He’s really such a dick. “Tetsu-kun was right.”

“About what?” he asks, confused at the shift in topic.

“You _did_ look for me,” Satsuki says with a smile.

“Of course I did, I was worried!” he says before he can stop himself. Then he turns away in embarrassment, hiding his face behind the towel draped over his head. “... You went to Tetsu?”

“To Seirin.”

“Oh.” Why is he even surprised to know that she went to see Tetsu? It would’ve made sense, if he only just stopped running around like a headless chicken and actually took the time to _think._ When she’s upset, she would only ever run to people she knows quite well. Daiki was the one who made her upset in the first place and Kise was a train ride away, which left Tetsu.

“Dai-chan.”

She has been calling him that since she came back, like she used to all the time when they were kids. Daiki doesn’t know why she’s doing it again but for once in his life he doesn’t bitch about it. The familiarity of the name makes him feel calm. It makes him feel a little less lost.

“...Yeah?”

“I have a really good feeling about the Winter Cup,” she says.

He frowns. "Can’t be all that different from Inter High.” Disappointing, that is.

“It will be different though!” she replies. There’s an excited, determined expression on her face as she looks back at him. “So make sure you get all healed up before that, okay?”

He doesn’t know what the point is, to be honest. What if an injury is just the kind of handicap his opponents need so they can stand even the slightest bit of chance against him? But he keeps the thought in, not wanting to make Satsuki worry again.

“... Fine,” he mumbles.

Satsuki smiles, then her expression turns calculating as she lists everything he should and shouldn’t do for his elbow to heal properly.

“... and don’t do anything physically demanding, like play basketball. Also, don’t… ”

_Well, that one’s easy,_ he thinks as he slouches against the couch. It’s not like he has anyone to play with after all.

Ah, he’s tired.

* * *

 

_He’s late to the game. He yawns, his steps unhurried as he walks down the hall towards the court doors._

_He’s more than halfway there when he feels it. A tension in the air, charged and hot against his skin. He finds his stride lengthening, his pace quickening, and the next moment he’s through the doors and walking towards the benches._

_In the distance the buzzer rings, but he doesn’t notice it. He notices red. And he follows it, closer, closer, until his arm is around broad shoulders and he can see the red up close._

_“That’s it, show some spirit so you can entertain me even a little.”_

_Kagami tenses under his arm. “You – !” he shoves him back and looks at him in surprise and slowly-forming anger._

_There’s a tingling down Daiki’s side where he’d pressed against the other and the faintest thrum of excitement on his pulse. He smirks. Maybe today it’ll be different._

_**_

_He watches Kagami’s back with hollow disappointment as he limps off the court and heads to the Seirin bench._

_He scoffs, looking off to the side. And to think Daiki thought that Kagami would have more to give. But it turns out that_ that’s _the best he can do and in the end he’s just like all the others._

_He glances up, wanting to see the look of defeat on Kagami’s face – what’s one more to add to the collection? – but what looks back at him is the farthest thing from what he was expecting._

_Looking back at him were eyes filled with burning rage and unceasing determination. Not a loss of will, not surrender. It’s fire, and heat, and it screams at him –_

‘Not yet. It’s not over yet. I’ll beat you, just fucking wait.’

_Daiki feels a stirring in his chest._

* * *

 

He wakes up from a dream filled with a bright red haze and indistinct images of a boy with a soft tinkling laugh. Like he has for the past few months. When exactly it started, he can’t remember.

He also wakes up feeling like shit. But this one is familiar and normal, waking up feeling bone-tired and wanting to go back to sleep and maybe not wake up again.

Today, however – _god,_ today is exceptionally shitty, even by his own shitty standards.

He tries to open his eyes, but it’s heavy and crusted from sleep. He blinks, and sees even through his blurred vision that his room is bathed in darkness.

What time is it?

He tries to move his head towards his bedside table, but the sudden, sharp ache tearing through his temples makes him stop and moan into his pillow. He sniffs. It’s hard to breathe properly. He feels… not good…

He closes his eyes against the pain and takes small, short breaths of air. It’s cold...

The red haze is back. And he hears something, a whisper that sounds like _‘–to see you’_ and then louder, closer...

“Dai-chan?” Silence. Then again, more insistently, “Dai-chan?”

He opens his eyes slowly and winces at the bright rays of sunlight now peeking in from behind his curtains. Did he just drift off back to sleep?

Satsuki is sitting on his bed, hand touching his forehead. She’s frowning, head angled to the side and whispering, “– yes. I think he has a slight fever. He hasn’t been eating– ”

Was she talking to him?

“Who’re y’talkin’ to?” he says, or at least tries to. His voice just comes out as a garbled croak.

“Dai-chan, you’re awake! I was getting worried!”

“Not so loud…” he flinches and swats her hand away, pinching the bridge of his nose and pressing against the pounding that’s threatening to burst his skull open.

Satsuki straightens up, and only then does Daiki notice the phone she has pressed against her ear. “Sorry,” she mumbles. “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty,” he says.

“Does your throat hurt? Do you feel nauseous?”

“A little. No. Why are you here? There’s no school today.” Right? He hopes so. He doesn’t feel like moving all day, not even to go to school just to cut class and sleep on the rooftop.

She ignores him, instead saying to whoever she’s been talking to, “You didn’t…? Okay. Sounds like just a mild cold, then.” She makes little sounds of agreement, then turns towards Daiki again. “Are you hungry?”

He narrows his eyes in suspicion. “No.”

Satsuki looks at him then tilts her head, as if listening and waiting for something through the phone. Who the hell is she talking to? “... Well, he stills need to eat something before he can take some medicine,” she says as she stands and turns away, “Okayu? Oh, sounds good!”

“No! You better not — ” he starts to say, pushing himself up on his elbows, but a sneezing and coughing fit knocks him flat on his back again and Satsuki merrily continues out of the room.

He rubs a hand against his neck, trying to ease the scratchy feeling in his throat and failing. She didn’t even bring him water.

Before long, the loud clanging of pots from downstairs start floating through the open door. He glares at his ceiling. If this cold doesn’t kill him, Satsuki’s ‘rice porridge’ surely will. Not even a second later, he hears a shriek followed by what sounds like a small explosion. Death by kitchen fire is starting to sound like a possible alternative too.

With a miserable sigh, he drags himself up and off the bed, taking the blanket with him and wrapping himself up in it as he slowly, _slowly_ heads to the hallway, sniffing and shivering and grumbling from the cold as he does so.

He’s halfway down the stairs when he hears Satsuki’s panicked voice.

“–gamin, are you sure it shouldn’t be turning this color?!”

Now _that_ can’t be good. If what Satsuki is ‘cooking’ has turned a weird color, then Daiki may already be too late. Feeling dread curl in his stomach, he takes a deep breath through his clogged nose, turns the corner towards the kitchen, and promptly enters a war zone – dirty pots and bowls overturned on the sink, eggs cracked on the floor by the fridge, a whole bag of rice spilled on the counter, and there, on the ceiling just above the stove… actually, he doesn’t know what that green goo-like thing is.

“Satsuki! What the hell is that on the ceiling?!”

She whirls around, her eyes wide and her hair in disarray and coming out of her ponytail. “Dai-chan! What are you doing out of bed?!”

He goes to her side, each hurried step feeling like someone’s clobbering his head with a baseball bat, and turns the stove off just as the pot’s contents start spilling over. He makes the mistake of looking into the pot and seeing whole, unpeeled vegetables swimming in a mass of congealed blob that Daiki supposes has once been liquid and is now, _oh my god_ , a nasty color of –

“Why is it purple?!” Even as he says this, he sees the concoction _move_ , a bubble rising from its surface and turning larger and larger until it pops with a loud, almost obscene gurgling sound.

Well, if he wasn’t feeling nauseous earlier, then he definitely is now.

“What even is this?” he says, voice cracking. He turns to Satsuki and crosses his arms under the warmth of his blanket. His bare feet feels like it's freezing against the tiles. “And _don’t_ say it’s okayu.”

Satsuki at least has the sense to look sheepish. “Well, it was supposed to be. I followed the instructions given to me so I don’t know what happened!”

Daiki had once seen Satsuki at work before and even he wasn’t sure how she turned ordinary grocery items into weapons of mass destruction. “Hah? Instructions from who?” Just who, pray tell, in their right mind would willingly tell her to go into the kitchen and _cook?_

“Ka– ” Satsuki stops abruptly and glances sharply at something besides Daiki.

He follows her eyes, his gaze landing on her phone on the counter. It’s still connected to a call. He only gets a second to see the kanji for _fire_ before the view is blocked by the back of Satsuki’s head.

When she turns back to face him, she has on a nervous smile and her hands are twisting around the hem of her shirt. The phone is nowhere to be found.

“...The hell?” he mutters, eyebrows rising high in suspicion.

“ _Sa_ kurai-kun! Sakurai-kun told me! And you would have yelled at him and you know he gets so nervous when you so much as glance at him so I went ahead and ended the call,” she says in one breath.

Now, Daiki’s been told plenty of times that he isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed let alone the second. Heck, not even the third, or the fourth, or the _tenth_. But even he knows that that wasn’t Ryou’s name on the phone and he knows Satsuki’s lying and he knows that she knows that he knows.

His head throbs. “That wasn’t – ”

An odd squelching noise distracts him, and he and Satsuki turn towards the stove, or rather, the ceiling. They watch in morbid fascination as the huge green glob stuck on the surface starts to droop low, lower, lower, until it finally drops into the pot and sloshes atop the mess that Daiki refuses to call food.

“I ain’t eating that,” he says, voice garbled through the thickness he can feel at the back of his throat. He backs away, shaking his head in refusal and wincing through the pain. “You can’t make me!”

“Dai-chan, you have to eat!”

“Not that… that… _thing!_ ” he points at the pot and its bubbling radioactive contents. No way.

“Fine! I just wanted to make you something special, for yesterday,” Satsuki huffs, stepping around the mess on the floor towards the fridge. “I’ll just heat up the food Auntie left for you last night. Which you didn’t eat _again._ ”

There’s now a familiar note of worry in her voice and it makes him grit his teeth. “I wasn’t hungry, okay?”

She looks like she wants to argue more, her shoulders tense and her mouth turned down into a frown, but she thankfully drops it.

_Good,_ he thinks. He doesn’t wanna hear one more thing from her about how he’s recently been eating less and sleeping even more and how he hasn’t been smiling and laughing anymore, and most of all, he doesn’t want her asking again _‘Are you okay?’_ because Daiki just can’t be assed to lie anymore.

Even lying gets tiring after so long.

Satsuki at least knows how to use a microwave, so he leaves her to it and finds a clean spot on the kitchen table. He sags on the chair with a relieved sigh and closes his eyes. He’s starting to feel the slightest bit sick.

“Here, Dai-chan.”

He opens his eyes, seeing miso soup, tonkatsu, and a bowl of rice steaming on the table in front of him. It smells good and looks even better. But on his tongue, it just tastes bland like always and he can’t even blame it on the cold.

He spends the next few minutes grumbling and picking at his food while Satsuki sets about cleaning the mess she made with a stern order for him to finish everything. He watches in silence and sips at the miso as she stops a total of three times to fiddle with her phone and sigh. She’s most likely texting Not-Ryou and Daiki gets the feeling they’re talking about him. The mutterings of his name and Satsuki looking over her shoulder to shoot him concerned looks prove it and it’s goddamn annoying.

He wants to demand who this Not-Ryou is and why the fuck they’re minding Daiki’s business, but his head chooses that moment to ache and this time, he doesn’t quiet manage to stifle his pained groan.

“Dai-chan, are you – ”

The sound of his hand banging hard – harder than he intended to – on the tabletop cuts Satsuki off and makes the pounding in his head worse. He swallows the pills she left beside his plate along with the glass of water and stands up, the sound of the chair dragging across the floor loud in the sudden silence.

“I’m gonna sleep.”

“...Alright.”

He turns and walks towards the living room, dragging his blanket along with him. He feels himself tire with each step he takes, and it’s all he can do to not collapse face-first and sink into the couch cushions.

Sleep. He wants to sleep. It’s the only thing he really looks forward to everyday. So he lies on his back, eyes closed, and lets Satsuki’s soft humming from the kitchen and the warmth of the sunrays seeping in from the window lull him into that state of being a breath away from sleep. That blissful peace before absolute nothing.

It’s in this state that he feels soft, small hands atop his head, fingers gently carding through his hair. Then a whisper –

_“–gamin says… you should take care of yourself, Dai-chan…”_

The red haze welcomes him and wraps around him, warm and bright and so very close. And soon… soon he loses himself in the dreams.

* * *

 

_It’s the match against Kaijou. Against Kise._

_He’d been waiting for this. After all, Kise is one of the very few people he can go all out against._

_Kise won’t win. But the next few minutes will relieve his boredom at least a little bit. Not enough to last long, but he’ll take what he can get._

_Daiki steps into the court, and he immediately tenses, feeling something in the air. Something calling out to him..._

_He glances up to the stands and squints. He thinks he sees a spot of red among the dreary grays and browns of the spectators, but he’s not sure._

_A shudder rushes down his neck. He ignores it._

_He moves forward, meeting Kise’s smirk with one of his own._

_“I won’t lose, Aominecchi,” Kise says, voice even and determined._

_“You sound confident, but you know you will. Besides,” Daiki scoffs, “you haven’t won against me before.”_

_No one has. Not recently. And no one will, not anytime soon._

**

_He walks out of the locker room in the middle of Wakamatsu’s loud complaining about Coach not taking Daiki off the game. He wanders around, letting his feet take him wherever, and soon he finds himself in the lobby, standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows and looking out at nothing._

_So Kise is trying to copy him_. _Daiki doesn’t get what the damn problem is. If Kise succeeds, so what? A copy is just that after all – a copy. The idea of it though… it’s infuriating. Because it just proves something Daiki had already known since his second year at Teikou._

_He is snapped out of his reverie by that same pulling_ _feeling from before, a tug in his chest that makes him tilt his head to the side and see –_

_Kagami._

_“Oh, it’s you,” Daiki says, turning to face him. He’s surprised to see him there, but also not. He can’t explain it and it’s irritating. “The hell are you here?” He looks around, expecting to see familiar light blue hair. “Where’s Tetsu?”_

_“The fuck do you care?” Kagami hisses. Then his eyes – red, red, red – narrow in confusion. “Tetsu? You mean Kuroko?”_

_“Of course I mean him. Who else could I have been talking about?” Daiki almost wants to snicker at the stupid look on Kagami’s face, but he reels the feeling in ‘cause why the hell is he standing here talking to this guy like they’re the best of pals when the guy in question hates his guts and Daiki… he doesn’t actually know what to think of Kagami, especially not after their match._

_Kagami lost to him… But Kagami didn’t give up._

_Daiki scowls. So what if he’s the first that didn’t give up? A loss is still a loss. “Tch, whatever,” he says, turning back towards the hallway he came from, “I got no time for you.”_  
_  
_ “Listen, you – ”

_He shoots Kagami a scathing glare, making him flinch, and the sight of it makes something in Daiki’s chest twinge. “I don’t have to listen to you,” he hears himself bite out in spite, his mouth quirking up in a smile that’s anything but friendly. “Remember? You haven’t beaten me.”_

_Without another word or glance, Daiki walks away, every step he’s taking making his pulse slow and calm._

* * *

 

* * *

A month passes, then two.

His elbow has healed completely, which made Satsuki inexplicably pleased.

And in no time at all, the wind has started to grow cold, biting and nipping at his skin.

It’s almost winter.

“Dai-chan, you’re ditching practice again!”

He heaves a deep sigh as he squirms and tries to find a good spot to lie on on the hard concrete of the school rooftop. “Shut up, Satsuki. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine!” comes Satsuki’s shrill voice from where she’s standing a couple of ways from the door to the stairwell. “Tetsu-kun’s new technique is – ”

Ugh. Annoying. Like that would work on him.

She leaves him alone eventually, but not without calling him stupid and demanding he go back inside before he catches a cold again.

Yeah, like he’d catch anything with all the layers of coats she forced him to wear. After he messed up his elbow and he got himself sick a couple of weeks back, Satsuki has been on his case for not taking care of his health more. And as soon as the weather got the tiniest bit cold, she’d forbidden him to go out of the house without an extra piece of clothing to warm him up.

_‘Don’t make us worry again!’_ she had said. Daiki had been too pissed to ask who ‘us’ was and he’d only gone along with it because he didn’t wanna risk her attempting to cook something for him again.

He yawns, stretching his limbs out until his back pops with a satisfying sound, and in seconds, he’s already drifting off into a hazy sleep.

 

He wakes with a start and sits up. The sun has already set, painting the sky in blotches of bright reds and dark blues. He’d been sleeping for hours. But there’s none of the grogginess he always feels after waking up.

Instead he feels on edge, expectant. There’s an itch on the palm of his hand and a jittering, restless energy on his limbs. Like he wants to... like he wants to grab a ball and play.

 

(In his dream, he heard the sound of a heavy gate being forced open.)

* * *

 

“So you’re telling me that… Iron Heart is back, that Phantom guy has a new move, and Kagami can jump _even_ _higher?!_ ”

“Not in so simple terms, but yes, Wakamatsu. Must you repeat everything I say?”

Said blond idiot splutters. “But Captain! This means Seirin is stronger now. It was easy to win last time but – ”

“They have improved but so have we. I don’t see any reason to be worried. Right, Aomine?”

Daiki rolls on his front, arm dangling over the edge of the stage and head pillowed on the folded up ends of the scarf he had begrudgingly let Satsuki wrap around his neck this morning. When she dragged him to the gym for a team meeting, she didn’t say that they expected him to _contribute_ to it, so he just yawns in reply. Imayoshi, however, just makes a questioning sound and stares pointedly at him, like he really does want to know what Daiki thinks and he’s waiting for Daiki to say it.

He clicks his tongue, annoyed. “Don’t remember any Iron Lung or whatever so he can’t be all that special, Tetsu’s move won’t work on me, and Kagami…” he drawls, closing his eyes sleepily, “well, what’s the use of jumping high if he can’t catch me?”

When he blinks his eyes open, the first thing he sees is Satsuki’s glare, so sharp he finds himself flinching back and swallowing in nervousness. She then crosses her arms, huffs, and turns away from him to face the other regulars gathered in the court, but not without a last scolding look thrown over her shoulder.

What? Was it something he said?

“See? The ace said it himself,” Imayoshi says, tone gleeful. “Nothing to worry about.”

Wakamatsu throws a few more protests and one or two insults about him being a lazy arrogant bastard but eventually they move on to talk about stuff he doesn’t care a bit about. Who needs strategy when you can outrun and outmaneuver everyone on the court?

Not him.

Daiki tunes them out and instead fiddles with the ends of his scarf. It’s one he got on a whim a few days ago, when he was out roaming the streets late at night and delaying going home to an empty house. It had been so cold, and the scarf had seemed so warm.

It’s red. But now he frowns, realizing with a frown that it’s not quite the right shade. It’s… dull.

“Aomine. Here.”

He looks up just in time to see Imayoshi throw something at him. He catches it a second before it would have struck his forehead, the “it” being a cellphone, and there on the screen is a thumbnail of a video. “The hell is this?”

“Yesterday’s match. Just watch it,” Imayoshi says, smirking. “It’s a declaration of war.”

Daiki glares up at Imayoshi, tempted to chuck the phone back to the bastard for ordering him around like that (it would be satisfying because he won’t even miss), but he recognizes the color of those jerseys and sees that familiar head of hair. Before he knows it, he’s already sitting up with his back facing the others and hitting play on the video.

The first few seconds are of Ryou apologizing and the screen jumping around, but it soon steadies to a wide shot of the court below the bleachers, half of the players in yellow and half in the white of Seirin’s uniform. There’s a flash of red on the corner, and Daiki’s eyes immediately zero in on it.

Kagami.

He’s being double teamed, but in no time at all he’s already breaking past their half-assed defense and sprinting down the length of the court. An opponent is on him in an instant, but Kagami brushes it off easily and _jumps –_

He jumps right from the damn free-throw line.

And in that brief moment of time between Kagami’s feet leaving the floor and his hand slamming the ball into the hoop with a loud clank, Daiki feels a shiver of something familiar crawling down his spine.

He makes a small startled laugh. "Interesting,” he whispers. Looks like Kagami Taiga’s not a complete waste of time after all. He’s not expecting much, but maybe next time, when they meet on the court again, it’ll be different.

On the screen, Kagami’s hold on the rim slips and he falls hard on his back, a string of curses flying out of his mouth.

_A declaration of war, huh?_

* * *

 

“Let me out!! Wakamatsu you shitstain – _ow, fucker,_ be careful!!”

They tricked him! Trapped him in this cloth prison, and then dragged him around like a sack of potatoes! The nerve of these people! He’d been struggling and pushing against the cloth, but there’s no give. Assholes, the lot of them.

His head hits a small bump on the floor. He grunts. “Fuck you all!”

When they finally deign to release him a few minutes later, his already sour mood worsens when he finds out that the photobook they used to trick him into that trap earlier was _not_ Horikita Mai-chan’s. He did not just endure all that for Horiuchi Mako-chan and her not-F cups. “The heck! I’m leav– ”

It’s easy to spot him down on the court, with his bigger than average build and that unruly mop of hair that is the only bright spot of color amongst the whites of Seirin’s jerseys and the teals of the other team’s.

He sees Kagami tense under his stare, but the other doesn’t look up. 

“Tch.”

“What’s wrong, Dai-chan?”

He shrugs, feigning disinterest. “They’re awfully hostile today.”

“It seems Seirin’s center, Kiyoshi Teppei, got injured during a previous match against this same team. It’s why he wasn’t in the match against us,” Satsuki says, frown on her face. “Kirisaki Daiichi… I think it was intentional on their part. They play dirty.”

“S’that so…” he says absently.

They eventually make their way through the stands while the teams form a huddle. Imayoshi makes a fake startled sound when he sees him following. “Oh? Thought you were leaving, Aomine?”

There’s a sly smirk on Imayoshi’s face and Daiki wants to punch it. “Shut up,” he grumbles, and just to be safe from more harassment, he takes a seat a row below and on the opposite end of where Imayoshi is.

Satsuki joins him, taking a sit beside him and flashing him a wide smile. “I knew you’d want to watch, Dai-chan!”

“You shut up too, Satsuki,” he says, then ignores her offended shriek and the punch she aimed at his shoulder.

To be honest, he hadn’t wanted to watch. Not Seirin’s match against Midorima the week before, and not this. He doesn’t care enough to sit here for minutes on end to find out who would win because he knows that it wouldn’t matter. He’d still beat them all.

But still. _Still._ He’s… curious.

The match starts with a shrill whistle and the squeaking of rubber on hardwood. And Daiki finds his eyes following after that familiar red and the number ‘10’ of his jersey.

**

Basketball is a contact sport. With limbs going every which way to defend and pass and shoot, it’s part of the game to expect to be smacked or pushed or bruised, especially under the hoop. But this Hanamiya bastard and his cronies deliberately take it to a whole other level.

It’s unpleasant to watch.

Seirin’s center has already taken a few hits, and now, down on the courts, one of the opposing players elbows Kagami hard in the gut, knocking the wind out of his lungs and making him double over.

After that, it’s like time froze for a second, the air going still and heavy. Then it snaps, and the next moment Kagami is straightening up, the line of his shoulders tense.

Daiki sees it as if in slow motion: Kagami turning around, fists clenched tight and arm being pulled back and raised, poised to strike, his face twisting into a look of seething rage that Daiki can feel the heat of even from his place high up in the stands.

His breath catches in his throat.

On one hand, the asshole from Kirisaki rightfully deserves a punch or two. Hell, the whole lot of them deserves an ass kicking. But on the other, if that punch connects, it’ll mean penalties and maybe even suspension and what if Seirin loses here and there won’t be a next time, a rematch between them? At least not in the near future and can Daiki really wait for another year when it feels like he’d already waited so long?

There’s a beat of startled gasps and shouts and then the moment’s broken and Kagami goes face-planting on the floor, Tetsu grabbing hold of his ankles.

From beside him, Satsuki lets out a relieved sigh, muttering something panicky under her breath – “I can’t believe Kagamin almost…” – that he fails to hear over his own internal cursing.

Kagami is such a reckless, fucking dumbass.

Daiki sags against his seat, not sure when he sat up straight in the first place.

**

Things only get uglier from there.

Almost everyone of Seirin’s players on the court is sporting bruises, pinkish red against their skin, but none has it worse than their center who’s fighting off two of Kirisaki’s on the paint and doing a pretty bang up job of it too. Daiki would have been impressed if he didn’t think the guy’s being an idiot, sacrificing himself like that.

The first half ends with Seirin barely managing to stay ahead in points. Not fancying spending the whole break staring at nothing, he stands and heads down the rows of seats, only stopping briefly to watch the brief interaction between Tetsu and Hanamiya down on the courts.

He comes back from the restroom to see Satsuki fidgeting on her seat and scribbling on her notebook, mumbling patterns and predictions and calculations of Seirin’s chances. She sounds worried.

“They’ll win,” he says as he plops down on his seat.

Satsuki’s head snaps up to him. “Why do you say that?”

“Tetsu’s really pissed,” he says around a yawn.

She makes a thoughtful hum, no doubt remembering that time back in Teikou when Tetsu stood up against Murasakibara and challenged both him and Midorima to a 3-on-3 just to prove a point. Tetsu had been only slightly irritated then, so who knows what he’ll do when he’s downright angry?

Besides, not one of his teammates seem to be giving up just yet. And Kagami had looked just as furious as Tetsu and just as ready to fight when Daiki caught a glimpse of him earlier.

The game soon resumes, and not even a minute into the quarter, Seirin has already lost possession of the ball four times, all their passes being intercepted by Hanamiya’s quick steals, shutting down their offense. Looks like the bastard had more dirty tricks up his sleeve.

It’s Tetsu, and his passes, who breaks their team free from the trap. Just as Daiki expected.

“Kuroko is changing the course of his passes on his own,” Imayoshi explains from behind him. “Which means even his teammates don’t know where the passes are going. Even Hanamiya won’t be able to read it.”

“But… how in the world are they receiving such a pass?!” Wakamatsu barks out, voice incredulous.

Daiki’s already responding before he can think twice about it. “They’re just guessing.”

“Huh?!”

“They’re just thinking something like ‘Kuroko might give me a pass here.’ If you’ve been practicing everyday with him, you’ll kinda start to understand what Tetsu is thinking. What they need isn’t logic.” A pause. Then he continues, his eyes not leaving the arc of the ball as it curves towards Kagami’s waiting hand, “It’s trust.”

He feels Satsuki’s stare and he knows what kind of look she’s giving him without having to check.

It’s a sad, and just a touch pitying, look.

Daiki is the very picture of relaxed and bored though, slouched in his chair as he is and head leaning on a raised fist. But inside he’s thinking about it – trust. How he used to have that but not anymore. He only trusts in himself now after all.

Seirin’s victory is set to stone from that moment on. The buzzer has barely started to ring through the stadium before he’s already springing to his feet and walking away.

“Dai-chan, where are you – ?”

“I’m going home.”

“But there’s still Shuutoku’s match!”

“There’s no way Midorima’s gonna lose,” he says without bothering to stop. Seirin winning here means all six of them will be meeting soon in the Winter Cup. Soon. “Everyone’s so freaking slow…”

He looks towards the court and sees Kagami looking back at him. Daiki’s lips curl into a smirk. He feels anticipation burn hotly in his veins.

“I’m tired of waiting.”

* * *

 

“Practice match? I don’ need that.”

Satsuki huffs from where she’s rummaging through his drawers and stuffing pieces of clothing on a duffel bag he vaguely remembers using on a training camp back at Teikou. “It’s not just for you! It’s for the whole team!”

He grumbles and buries himself inside the warmth of his blanket again. It’s really starting to get cold. There’s blissful silence for the next few minutes before he’s being roughly – and  _rudely –_ shaken awake by the shoulders.

“Dai-chan, don’t go back to sleep!”

“ _Ngh?_ Wasn’ sleeping.”

Satsuki pulls at his arm. “Come on! I want to have enough time after the match to soak in the onsen!”

He pops his head out of his nest with a frown. “What’s that about the onsen? I thought we were going to a match.”

She starts fiddling with the zippers of the duffel, opening and closing it with a sound that grates badly on his nerves. “Onsen? What onsen? I never said anything about an onsen.”

“Yeah you d– _stop that!_ ”

“I won’t if you don’t get up _right_ _now,_ ” she says with a smile.

_Zyuiiiiiiiippppppp_

_Zyuuuuiiiiiiiipppp zyip zip zyiiiiiiiii-_

“Dammit, fine! I’m getting up!”

“Great! I expect you to be ready in ten minutes!” She claps her hands once before whirling around and hopping out to the hall in excitement.

He rubs tiredly at his eyes. What is _up_ with her? She’d been so weird recently. And now she just had to wake him up when he’d been having such a nice sleep.

Annoying.

He throws the blankets off him and changes into his warm-ups, which he doubts he’d need to get out off because no matter what Satsuki says about it, he doesn’t want nor need to play in a practice match against a no-name school.

"What took you so long?!” Satsuki asks from the couch when he finally manages to drag himself down the stairs and into the living room thirty minutes later.

“I was jerking – ”

A throw pillow hits him squarely on the face.

**

See? Daiki knew it.

He didn’t need to come along to that joke of a match. He just wasted precious hours sleeping on the bus and then on the bench when he could have continued sleeping on his bed.

His fluffy, comfy bed.

But no, they had to send Satsuki to terrorize him into coming along and now they dragged the whole team to an onsen in the middle of nowhere.

_‘It’s good for releasing the fatigue from all the training and the practice match. The team could use the time to take a break and rest!’_ was the bullshit Satsuki fed him. She has an ulterior motive in bringing them here and fuck knows what it is. He knows though that he’s _this_ close to giving Satsuki a piece of his mind for getting him involved with it.

Speaking of Satsuki, she asked him (coerced with her stupid pout) to buy her this Pocari from a vending machine outside the ryokan and now she’s nowhere to be found. Where the heck is she so he can finally give her her stupid drink?

If he doesn’t see her in the next minute, he’s gonna hurl this thing to the sky, hole himself in the room (that he has to share with all the other regulars, just his fucking luck), and sleep the rest of the night away. He’d push the small sturdy cabinet he’d briefly seen earlier in the corner of the room and put it against the door so Satsuki wouldn’t push her way in and bug him like she always does.

He nears the end of the hallway and turns the corner. He doesn’t find Satsuki.

He finds Tetsu. 

Why isn't he surprised?

“Here,” he says, gently placing the bottle he’s holding beside where Tetsu’s lying on the bench, a small towel placed over his eyes.

As he goes to the vending machine nearby and picks a random drink he doesn’t care to know the name of, he sees Tetsu sit up and look at him in surprise and Daiki wonders briefly if this is what Satsuki brought them here for. Does she want him to tell Tetsu who they’d be playing in the first round of the Winter Cup? To issue a challenge of their own?

“It’s been a while, Tetsu.”

“... Aomine-kun.”

**

The sound of the can’s tab popping is loud in the silence. There’ve been rare times of silence between them before, and it’s been calm and comfortable. Now though, it’s just stifling. Uneasy.

“... I saw the match,” he says after taking a sip of his drink. “So that’s your new skill Satsuki can’t stop talking about.”

Tetsu shoots him a blank stare from where he’s still sitting at the bench and has barely touched the Pocari Daiki graciously gave him. “... Yes. It’s for fighting against you, Aomine-kun.”

He scoffs, amused despite himself, and straightens up from the wall he’s been leaning on. “Your new move won’t work against me,” he says in reply to Tetsu’s claim. “The team that’s gonna win the Winter Cup is…”

He freezes.

Daiki knows this feeling. Knows the presence behind him; knows the voice he hears saying “...is us!” just beside his ear; knows the warmth on his skin as he feels an arm drop heavily across his shoulder; knows the red of the sharp gaze boring into his, barely a foot away when he turns his head to the side.

He knows it and he doesn’t know why he isn’t scrambling to back away. Why he wants to stay right there and –

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Daiki snarls, slapping Kagami’s arm away with his hand and immediately taking a couple of steps back. He instantly feels cold, even in his warm-ups.

There’s a strange look that crosses Kagami’s face, something that is impossibly like concern but is most probably not, because when Daiki blinks the next second, the look is gone. Kagami’s frowning, and his voice is gruff when he asks, “Why are you here?”

_‘The hell do you care?’_ Daiki almost says, but he manages to bite his tongue at the last second. Those words sound too defensive, too _angry._

Instead he says with a sneer, “You’re saying you’ll win, huh?” He turns and puts the can down on the bench. “It’s not enough. You got stronger, but you’re not even close to any one of _us._ ”

He’s facing them both now, but his eyes and his words are directed at Kagami only. He barely even notices Tetsu standing beside the other. “You’re barely entertainment at this stage,” he continues.

By his side, his fingers rub absently at his palm. His hand... it tingles.

**

He tosses and turns on his futon for what seems like the hundredth time that night. Across the room, Wakamatsu is snoring up a storm, and beside him, Ryou is muttering apologies even in his dreams. Whoever it was that had the very bright (dumb) idea to have them all room together, Daiki will murder them in their sleep.

He sighs, rolling on his side and placing a pillow over his head to muffle out the sounds.

Daiki can’t sleep.

For someone who can conk out as soon as his head hits the pillow, this is a problem. The last time he’d had trouble sleeping like this was back in middle school. Right around the time where everything went to shit. He feels the same restless feeling from back then, but this time is also different in ways he can’t explain.

He sighs and closes his eyes.

_“Your first Winter Cup opponent is us.”_

He doesn’t know what he expected when he said it. For them to look defeated or nervous, maybe? ‘Cause god knows how often he’d seen it before.

_“I’m sorry. To be honest, Aomine-kun, I just thought_ ‘yes!’ _when I heard your words.”_

But Tetsu is Tetsu and Kagami… he has faced Daiki head on and has even glared at him from across the court despite having been trounced _twice._ He’s starting to think it wasn’t fear he saw on Kagami’s face when he first told him his name.

“ _Ha! Everyone’s thinking the same. We’d have gone against them at some point. There’s nothing bad about repaying our debt sooner!”_

He lies on his back, pillow forgotten on his side. The drowsiness has left him completely and he feels wide awake.

Fuck. Why does he have to wait four more weeks?

* * *

 

He has barely gotten his head through his shirt when Satsuki barges into his room.

_“Dai-chan,_ _wake_ – wait, you’re already up?”

“Obviously,” he says, not bothering to spare her dumbfounded look a second glance as he goes about turning his room upside down in search of his missing jacket. Where the heck did he toss it last night?

“B-but… it’s still morning! The sun is still up!”

_“Duh.”_

After a few more minutes of rummaging around the mess under (and over) his bed and desk, he finally finds the damn piece of clothing balled up on top of the cabinet. Just how the heck did it get there?

He has put the jacket on and grabbed his bag and Satsuki still hasn’t budged from her spot by the door. She has, however, started tapping almost wildly on her phone.

“Oi, Satsuki.”

Silence.

“Satsuki!”

“Alright!” she chirps, flipping her phone shut and tucking it into her pocket. “Let’s go Dai-chan, you’re so slow!”

He follows after her as she turns and leaves the room. “Shut up,” he huffs in irritation. “You were the one who was just standing around there.”

“I was telling Imayoshi-san that he didn’t need to worry about you being late today,” she says as they walk down the stairs. Her tone is cheerful... _too_ cheerful.

He’ll bet his J’s that she was texting anyone other than Imayoshi. Wait, actually, no. No way is he willingly to put his priceless shoes on the line for a bet, even if he  _is_ sure he will win.

If it was any other day, he would have pestered her about it. Because first it had been Not-Ryou and now it’s Not-Imayoshi. Satsuki’s hiding something from him and it’s annoying because he has a feeling it’s about him.

But today, as they head out of his house and walks the path towards the station, he finds he doesn’t care much about it. He can only think about one thing.

It's today. He has a match to win.

**

He’s pissed.

No one told him the match is scheduled in the afternoon. Fuck _._ He spent almost an hour trying to stand still for the commencement ceremony and he was so mad that he didn’t even manage to fall asleep on his feet. He woke up early for nothing and now he has to spend _hours_ waiting.

He doesn’t like waiting.

So when Satsuki gets a text from Akashi ‘requesting his presence right away,’ he goes with only the slightest bit of grumbling. It’s not like he has anything better to do anyway; he’d already eaten the bentou Ryou made and Imayoshi had hidden his stash of Mai-chan’s mags he kept in his bag.

Besides, who knows what Akashi will do to him if he doesn’t show up? Hah. Not like Daiki’s scared, of course – Akashi doesn’t even come up to his shoulder. But _still._  The guy’s gotten kinda crazy since Teikou.

When he arrives by the stairs outside the stadium, he sees that Akashi has ‘invited’ the rest of his previous teammates too. Surprise, surprise.

Midorima’s voice is the first thing he hears and damn, he still sounds like he has a stick shoved up his ass. “Aomine. As always, you’re late.”

“Shaddup. Tetsu and Akashi’s not even here yet,” he drawls as he takes a seat on the steps.

“Do you think Kurokocchi would even come?” Kise asks from where he’s standing somewhere behind him. “ _Rude,_ Aominecchi, why aren’t you answering me! Hey, hey, what do you think, Murasakibaracchi?”

The crumpling of foil and loud crunching are Murasakibara’s only reply.

“Why are you all – ! Wait, Midorimacchi, why do you have scissors with you?”

Midorima scoffs, pushing his stupid glasses up his nose. “Of course, because it’s my lucky item for today, you fool.”

“Um…” Kise hesitates. “Either way, it’s dangerous, so can you stop holding it like _that_ while walking?”

And for someone who doubted if Tetsu would even come, it’s Kise who sees him first.

“Kurokocchi!” he shrieks, sounding so excited, more so than usual that is, that Daiki half-expected him to jump down the stairs and bound up to Tetsu like a dog, but Kise stays where he is.

What looks like a smile tugs at Tetsu’s lips before it’s gone and his face is at its usual blankness. “Sorry for the wait.”

“What, Tetsu, you have a chaperone with you?” Daiki says, just now noticing the rather unremarkable guy (more so than Tetsu, even) with him. He isn’t who Daiki was expecting to see there.

“Mine-chin has Sa-cchin as a chaperone too though,” Murasakibara says through his mouthful of chocolate.

“Hey, leave Satsuki out of this! And your phone’s damn noisy, Kise. Is it Akashi?”

“... Oh!” Kise falls silent. “It’s a text from one of my fans cheering me on!"

“ _Die,”_ Daiki hisses.

"Ehhh,” Murasakibara whines. “My chips won’t open. Mido-chin, lend me those scissors.”

“I refuse.”

“Huhh why not? Kuro-chin, do you have one?”

“No, I don’t.”

Murasakibara pouts and whines some more.

Daiki lets out a huge sigh. Damn, he has almost forgotten how annoying it is to have these people around. And now they’re all acting like everything’s just peachy. It’s fucking funny. So funny he’s tempted to just go back and sleep in the locker room, Akashi giving him shit if he did be damned.

But like he was summoned by the thought and Kise’s loud complaining, Akashi appears from behind them, his face shrouded in shadow and his mismatched eyes staring down at them from the top of the stairs.

“Sorry, I’ve kept everyone waiting,” says Akashi, except he didn’t sound sorry at all. He sounded haughty as hell. He then calls them all by their name, but Daiki barely notices it.

From a couple of meters away, he sees Kagami, bag over his shoulder and clad in Seirin’s warm-ups, walk up to them with long, purposeful strides.

“I’m happy to see you all again. The fact that we’re all gathered here is very touching,” Daiki hears Akashi say just as Kagami’s gaze slides to meet his.

Even from where Daiki’s sitting, he senses that there’s something… _different_ about Kagami.

“But there’s someone who shouldn’t be here,” Akashi’s voice comes from behind him. “Right now, I only want to talk to my comrades. Can you leave?”

Kagami looks away and stops just behind his teammates. “Hey, that’s cold. Don’t leave him out of the loop.”

Tetsu and the other guy startle, but they both visibly relax a second later. Even the shrimpy brunet managed to thaw from where he was standing frozen beside Tetsu.

“I’m back. We can catch up later,” Kagami says to the other two. “First…” He takes a step forward, chin held high and voice just a touch mocking, “So you’re Akashi. Glad to meet you.”

Holy shit. Daiki almost wants to laugh at the gall of this guy.

“Shintarou, can I borrow those scissors for a while?” Akashi however, is clearly far from amused. “My hair’s bothering me. I was just thinking about cutting it,” he says in reply to Midorima, “but before that, you’re Kagami Taiga, right?” His voice has dropped, turning low and steely, and right away, Daiki feels like something wrong’s gonna happen.

And _fuck_ is he right.

He sees the glint of steel in Akashi’s hand flashing straight towards Kagami’s face, and before he can blink, or breathe, or fucking _move_ , there’s already a thin line on Kagami’s cheek _so close to his eye_ and it’s bleeding red.

He doesn’t hear, or see, what happens next. Daiki just stares, eyes wide and mouth agape, as blood trickles down from the cut.

The next thing he knows, Akashi’s walking past him, and before Daiki can stop himself, he’s already on his feet, hand gripping tight and pulling at Akashi’s shoulder. “Oi, Akashi,” he says, voice trembling and teeming in unexpected anger. He feels like there’s something stuck in his throat, in his chest, making it hard to speak. “What the fuck was _that?"_

In the stunned, tense silence that follows, he feels everyone’s eyes on him.

“Aominecchi,” Kise whispers urgently, _“_ what are you doing?”

What is he doing? He expected something like this from Akashi because he's  _crazy,_ but fuck, what  _is_ he doing?

Akashi’s standing a couple of steps above him, making them level, and this close, his eyes are even more disturbing and eerie. He looks at Daiki, then down past his shoulder. “I see,” he says, tone even as he looks back at him again. “I called you all out here to verify something. But it seems everyone has indeed remembered our oath back at Teikou.”

“That’s not what I – ”

“Aomine, don’t be stupid.”

_“Shut your mouth, Mido –_ ”

There’s suddenly a tight hold on his wrist.

“Daiki, I will forgive you this once. But do not attempt to touch me or talk to me with impudence again.” This time, the threat in Akashi’s voice is clear.

It only makes his blood boil and his hands clench. He’s fast. He can get a punch in before –

“Aomine-kun.” Tetsu’s quiet call snaps him out of his thoughts. He almost looks back, but if he looks back, he’ll see…

Shit. What the fuck is he doing?

He clicks his tongue and steps aside, shoving his fists into the pockets of his jacket as he glares wordlessly at Akashi.

Akashi stares back at him in expectant silence before he straightens his clothes primly. “Well then,” he says, unruffled, and Daiki has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from cursing at his pompous ass again. “The next time we meet will be in battle.”

And just like that, he’s gone. Like he didn’t just almost stab a guy’s eye out. Fucking crazy asshole.

Murasakibara immediately follows after Akashi, and Midorima spares him a brief glance before he too disappears. Kise dawdles by his side, looking back and forth between him and the others.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he says in dismissal before he starts up the stairs, his steps heavy and slow.

“– alright, Kagami-kun?”

He looks over his shoulder against his better judgment and sees Kagami looking straight at him. He almost falters on his next step.

“I’m fine,” Kagami says, his eyes not leaving his. “I’m fine.”

Daiki stands there, feeling the tight knot in his chest loosen at the same time as he feels his breath catch, like all the anger he had has disappeared with just those words and now he feels...

Relief.

After what feels like hours, he finally tears his gaze away and hurries towards the stadium doors. He doesn’t look back.

**

“Akashi-kun did?! But Kagami… -kun, what did he say?”

“Hah?!”

“Did he say something after that? Was he fine?”

“I don’t know!” he says as he paces around the hallway outside the locker room. “He told Tetsu he was fine.”

_He told_ me _he was fine,_ he thinks but doesn’t say.

“And…?” Satsuki presses.

“What ‘ _and_ ’? That’s it!”

“Oh, well! Don’t worry, Dai-chan. If Kagami-kun said he was fine, then he’s fine.”

He glares at her. “I’m not worried about that idiot!”

He isn’t. But even he can’t deny that he _was,_ not even half an hour ago.And goddamnit he’d been racking his brains thinking about it but still he doesn’t know _why._  He shouldn’t have felt anything but apathy. He shouldn’t have cared at all.

Daiki feels even angrier now than before, and it annoys him further because he doesn’t know where – or what, or who – it’s directed at.

When Imayoshi and the others finally come out, he has managed to clear his mind some. He’s been waiting for this match for so long and he doesn’t want trivial thoughts distracting him. Maybe he can think about it again after, if he...

“It’s time. Let’s go,” Imayoshi says as he leads the team down the hallway towards the court.

He breathes in and follows without another word, letting the din of the crowd and the glare of the overhead lights on the hardwood floor lull him into calmness.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees the determined faces of each of the members on the Seirin bench, two of them more so than the others. His gaze lingers on them, and theirs to his.

Beneath the calm, he feels a faint thrumming underneath his skin, an anticipation, a restless kind of energy. This is it. Here, now, they’ll finally settle things for sure.

**

Kagami’s different. Stronger. He’d sensed it, the change in his aura, the moment he saw the other again today and more so when Kagami had walked up to him, all self-assured and composed, along the half-court line before the jump ball.

He’d known, but he hadn’t expected just how much.

He caught a glimpse of it a couple of minutes into the game, with the ball in Kagami’s hands and the two of them face to face on the paint. He’d been so sure Kagami would drive forward, roll behind him, and then shoot, and he’d tensed up in expectation of it, ready to defend. But in the last second, Kagami made a pass, when before today he would have barrelled through without thought and lost.

It was a pleasant surprise.

And now that he has thwarted Tetsu’s so-called vanishing drive and blocked his new pass – Tetsu must be underestimating him if he thought that the same trick would work twice on him – it’s as if Kagami’s a whole new person altogether. It’s as if defeating Tetsu had sparked something wild in him, something intense, something that brings a jolt down Daiki’s spine.

It’s way into the second quarter, Tetsu’s on the bench and Daiki has the ball. Kagami’s stance before him is natural, loose, but poised to strike any second. So similar to his it’s almost eerie.

He breathes in, and Kagami takes that split second chance to _move,_ his hand reaching out to the ball lightning-quick that Daiki barely manages to avoid it and dribble the ball behind him and to his other hand. He cuts towards the left and moves to shoot, but a mere half second before the ball can roll off his fingers, he senses Kagami looming behind him, knocking away his hand and making the ball fly out of bounds.

_Oh._

“Nice… looks like things are finally getting exciting,” he mutters under his breath. His limbs are tingling. His pulse is racing. He looks at Kagami, and he feels his lips tugging up into a smirk. “Looks like I can play a bit more seriously this time.”

The game resumes.

He moves, and Kagami moves right along with him.

He feints to the right, but Kagami is on him not even a second after.

Kagami shifts to the side and he follows, but then he switches to a crossover and speeds towards the other side and this time, Daiki is a second too late to stop him.

He has the ball and he shakes Kagami off; he leans back to shoot, but Kagami is suddenly _there_ and knocks the ball away again.

Oh, he feels like laughing. No one has gone head to head with him before. Not like this. Not once since Teikou.

And with every move Kagami makes, every block and shot he manages to score past Daiki, he feels something in him stirring awake. Something he’d had before but lost. He’d used to have this uncanny sense of an opponent’s movements, making him react fast, faster than most normal people. He’d revelled in the strength it had given him at first, but like his love for basketball, the instinct in him has dulled over time.

Now though, he finds himself seeing things more clearly and moving quicker than he has before. He feels himself slowly inching towards that state of calm and focus where nothing else matters besides the ball and the hoop. He gets closer and closer to it with each moment that Seirin, that Kagami and Tetsu, pushes and pushes and don’t back down.

They are in the lead, but it feels like that can change in any second. And the thought of it happening thrills him. Oh, he hasn’t felt this rush, this excitement in his blood for a long, _long_ time. He feels… absolute joy.

He wonders though. Since when has he started being bored as he leaves home for a match? Since when has he stopped feeling anything even when he won? Since when had everything became gray and tiring?

The only one who can beat him is him. But all he wanted was an opponent he could go all out against. He’d wished for a tight game where he wouldn’t be able to tell if he’d win or lose. He’d wanted that. He’d been looking for it.

He breathes in. He raises his head, glancing up at Kagami standing along the key for their captain’s free throw. This time, maybe…

He breathes out, and says to the person standing next to him, his former teammate, his former shadow – “I’m grateful to you, Tetsu.”

He breathes in, pushes through that unyielding gate, and topples over the edge.

**

Daiki can’t describe it. What it feels like to be in the Zone, that is.

It’s like sinking into water, deep into its depths where everything is dark and muffled. But at the same time, it’s like being out in a white, open field, no distractions and everything clear.

“You’re planning on taking me down?” he sneers. In this field of blank faces, there’s one speck of light steadily in front of him. It is faint. It is red. “But it’s impossible for you now. I told you. Your light is still too dim.”

Yet the red faces Daiki head on, losing, again and again, relentless, the light growing bigger and brighter with each point being added to Touou’s score until something finally snaps and Daiki feels the light blazing behind him.

In the Zone, Daiki’s faster than is possible. He is unstoppable. No one should have been able to take the ball from him while he’s in this state. No one.

No one except Kagami, it turns out. Kagami, with the spark now in his eyes too and who is the only spot of color in the sea of grays Daiki sees everyday. Kagami, with his fiery red gaze and the lingering heat of his fleeting, accidental touches.

“I’ll take back what I said before,” he says, feeling heady with glee and the realization that _finally, finally finally finally. I found you. I found_ you.

“You’re the best, Kagami!”

**

He runs. And Kagami is always one step behind him, sometimes right alongside him, sometimes even a step ahead.

He shoots. And Kagami’s always there, be it in front of him or behind him, ready to jump and block.

He feints. And Kagami doesn’t fall for it; instead, he sticks to him like glue, following his movements closely.

It’s like they’re in their own world, the two of them. He doesn’t know how many minutes are left on the clock and who’s leading.

He doesn’t know that there’s a grin on his lips and that there’s a light in his eyes.

He doesn’t notice how his breathing is turning ragged and his muscles are straining from too much movement he has gotten unused to. He doesn’t notice it until he’s suddenly unable to get past Kagami’s guard. In a fit of reckelessness, he shoots the ball, and the next thing he knows, the ball is knocked away and stolen from his hands and he’s falling to the floor hard.

He hears them make the shot. Then he hears the shouts from the Seirin bench.

Only thirty seconds left. And Touou is only one point ahead.

A thought hits him as he sits there, shocked – _What if… What if I lose here?_

“Aomine, are you okay?”

He stares almost blindly at the hand Susa is holding out. He scoffs and slaps it away before it can grab at his arm.

“Don’t touch me. I just stumbled a bit,” he snarls as he stands up. He ignores the trembling in his limbs and forces himself in the Zone again. This time, however, he doesn't get too deep. “Don’t get in my way. It’s just getting to the good part. This is when I get the most pumped up.”

He straightens up and faces the court, and when the match resumes and the ball is in his hands again, he sprints parallel towards the hoop, Kagami and the Seirin center cornering him on the edge of the court. He doesn’t stop. Just as he reaches the baseline, he turns and throws the ball up, letting it roll past his fingers to arch high above the backboard.

And right into the hoop.

“Hah! As if I’d lose! There’s no fun in playing if I don’t win,” he says heatedly, but the words sound desperate even to his ears.

Seirin takes back the score the next moment with a shot and a foul drawn from the idiot Wakamatsu. And now there’s barely ten seconds left on the clock and everyone on the stadium expects Seirin’s number 7 to intentionally miss the free throw. An overtime just isn’t an option for them.

He watches the ball as it curves up to the hoop, and in his mind’s eye he sees Kagami tensing beside him, ready to take the rebound, which Kagami does take as soon as the ball bounces off the rim. But before he can even set foot on the floor, Daiki is already up and sending the ball flying out of Kagami’s hands.

And as soon as he knocked that ball away, he felt sure. Of his victory, and the truth that there’s no one who can beat him after all.

It’s a bitter pill to swallow. He’s had practice with it, yeah, but he doesn’t think this time will be any easier. Because it was close, the last few minutes with Kagami. The closest it has been in quite a long time, even he can admit that.

_But it still wasn’t enough._

He’s just… He’s so tired.

But then—

But then he blinks, and he sees blue — _Tetsu_  — darting across the court. Sees the pass. The ball. And—

_It’s not over yet._

He moves just in time, but he jumps a little too slow, a little too low, and Kagami’s already there, jumping always higher than he does. And just as Kagami’s arm slips past his block, a memory hits him, of a day back in Teikou, of feeling ice cream melting down his back _—_

_‘I bet someone more amazing than you will appear soon.’_

He looks at the person in front of him with awe.

His knees almost buckle when he lands. There’s a ringing in his ears, loud and deafening, from the resounding clank of the hoop as Kagami dunked the ball in, the buzzer, the shouts and cheers. And that’s when the realization comes to him, quick and brutal.

“I… lost…?”

**

Daiki lost. It’s a surprisingly familiar feeling. Forgotten by too many years of being undefeated, of Teikou, but familiar nonetheless.

Also surprisingly, it _hurts._

Imayoshi told him, months before, that somewhere deep inside him, Daiki still hoped to lose. He scoffed at the thought then, and he scoffs at it now. Because why would he want to feel this way? Everything used to be fun. Then everything became so dull, almost muted – basketball, his everyday life. But now, he feels the hollowness of his loss so acutely. Now, he feels even emptier and numb.

“Are you okay?”

The voice snaps Daiki out of his daze, and he almost replies, _No, I don’t think so. I got my ass handed to me and I feel like shit. I’m —_ before he realizes that _Oh, you’re talking to Tetsu._

He swallows the sudden lump in his throat, and what actually comes out of his mouth is: “Geez… You can barely stand without support… Can’t even tell which side has actually won.”

Kagami turns towards him, and Daiki takes in the line of his shoulders — wider than his, he thinks; stronger too, maybe — and eyes the arm draped across it. Pale. _Tetsu’s_. The sight of it makes something twist in his gut, something heavy and unpleasant. He buries the feeling and all that it may mean at the back of his mind to pick on later, maybe. Never, most probably.

Daiki drops his gaze, gathers his scattered thoughts, and speaks to Kagami’s J’s. “But… I guess that’s how it should be.”

_In the end, the reason for our loss… all came down to that difference…_

He’s just about ready to line up, put this humiliating defeat behind him, and maybe mope around a bit at Satsuki’s, when that voice snags his attention again.

“Why are you making a face as if it’s the end of the world?”

Daiki doesn’t know what kind of face he’s making, but he must really look terrible. Shit, he _feels_ terrible. Does that translate to “looking like it’s the end of the world”? Was Kagami actually talking to him this time around?

He raises his head.

Kagami’s looking right at him. Kagami’s eyes are so _red._ “This is just getting started. Let’s play again. I’ll take you down anytime,” he says, and Daiki feels the air get stuck in his throat.

When he breathes in again, it’s like all the sensations come gushing back in and he can feel everything again all at once. The cold of the air on his heated, sweat-soaked skin, the soreness of his limbs, the ache deep in his bones, a tightness searing through his chest to the tips of his fingers and burning at the edges of his eyes. He feels almost dizzy.

A choked off laugh escapes him. He meets Kagami’s stare, wonders at the fleeting look of surprise and something else, something strange, that flashes across his face, and says, “Shut up, dumbass.”

His body feels heavy and tired, but inside it’s like a weight has been lifted off his chest and he feels… impossibly light. Like he can breathe freely again.

**

The next minutes pass by in a blur.

He remembers talking to Tetsu and reaching out his hand for the fistbump he hadn’t returned for more than a year, all the while finding it hard to ignore Kagami standing there, _staring,_ looking like an idiot while he bites his lip as if he wants to say something (in the end, he doesn’t say anything).

He remembers trudging off the court, hearing Ryou’s quiet sniffles behind him and seeing Satsuki standing by the benches, silent tears down her cheek and a bittersweet smile on her lips.

He remembers lying on the hard concrete near the stairs they met on earlier and staring unseeingly up at the darkness of the night sky, Satsuki finding him there who knows how many minutes later, and the words tumbling out of his mouth with a sigh –

“I want to get new basketball shoes.”

“Ah… I wanna practice.”

After that he walks home, Satsuki silent beside him, eats dinner he didn’t bother reheating, takes a bath, and sinks into his bed.

He feels the weariness more intensely now, but he’s far from drowsy. Because every time he closes his eyes, moments from the game come rushing back at him in bits and pieces, but so vivid it’s like he’s experiencing it all over again.

Kagami jumping from behind him, arm against his back as he knocks the ball from his hands.

Later – _‘I don’t mind entertaining you if you have that much time to spare.’_

The spark of red as Kagami hurtles towards the Zone, and every second after that, every shot and block and steal.

The last point.

Repeat.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been lying there, lost in his thoughts, when he hears it.

A voice. Soft, warm, sure, and familiar.

<I’m not glad I played with you, Aomine.>

Daiki doesn’t sleep that night.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled so much with this chapter and idk maybe that's obvious with this mess and the time between the last update. Anyway! I'm fucking glad I finally got to this point in the story holy shit. I didn't think I'd last this long. And finally, I see fluff in the near future!
> 
> Thanks very much for the support you guys (ToT)


	10. out loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “...Yeah, I am. You have a problem with that?” he says, eyes narrowed and voice raised in a defiant pitch, like he’s ready to fight him if he so much as says ‘yes’.
> 
> And he laughs. A real one. A genuinely happy one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YIKES has it been that long? *hides* Forgive me for being lazy OTL
> 
> I wrote this in bits and pieces over a long period of time, so if some of the scenes seem choppy or just doesn't flow well, I apologize. I was half-asleep when I edited most of this, and now I just want to get this out.
> 
> Thanks to all the comments and encouragements! I didn't expect the response to the last chapter and it's overwhelming, really. I hope you all enjoy this as well ~

 

He waits.

The comfort of his bed has long since been abandoned, exchanged for the unforgiving hard floor. He sits with his back to the wall, ignoring his aching muscles protesting the position as he wraps his blanket tighter around his shoulders, his head turned towards the window.

From outside the yard he hears the faint rustling of some nighttime animal on the bushes. And further still, the occasional rumble of a passing car. Inside the house though, there is only stark silence.

He’s alone here. With only recollections and realizations and faint echoes of a voice to keep him company.

Through the drawn up curtains, he watches with heavy eyes as the sky gets steadily lighter, the bright scattered stars fading and the inky darkness melting into navies and much later into soft, powdery blues, splashes of reds and yellows mixing in from up the horizon, adding warmth where it was once cold and dark and lonely.

This is the first time Daiki has seen one. A sunrise. And even though the morning air is chilly and he is bone-tired, he also feels warm and wide awake. The sun at this time doesn’t hurt to look at, and the more he looks at it, he can’t help but think that it’s beautiful, a very welcome sight after the evening he just had.

He waits until the sun has fully risen. But he doesn’t hear the voice again.

**

Satsuki doesn’t ask. Not about his bloodshot eyes, his more sullen than usual aura, nor their loss yesterday. She only takes one look at his face and gives him a subdued yet knowing smile. And for some reason, Daiki feels himself relax at the sight of it, at the silent understanding and unsaid offer to listen.

But it’s always been there, hasn’t it? Daiki has just been too absorbed in his self-hate and pity party to bother to see it.

Maybe... it’s time to change that.

“Ready to go, Dai-chan?” she says as she waits by the genkan.

“Yeah, just a sec,” he replies as he pockets his phone and grabs his jacket from the coat rack, ignoring the (too dull) red scarf hanging just beside it. He doesn’t need it today. The jacket’s big and warm enough to keep the cold at bay.

The walk to the station and the train ride downtown is filled with Satsuki’s idle and light-hearted chatter, and for once he’s thankful for it. He lets her cheerful voice drown out the thoughts that have been running through his head nonstop since last night. She seems to be extra talkative today and they reach the store without her running out of anything to say and him getting sucked once again into his head.

A step past the shop’s glass doors and he’s instantly bombarded with the smell of leather and rubber and the tinkling sounds of a cheesy, upbeat melody from the overhead speakers. He breathes in the familiar calming scent and willingly lets himself get lost in the aisles and its shelves upon shelves of basketball shoes.

It works wonders in distracting him.

Except that he finds his way to the Jordans ten minutes later and there, dead center on the display, is a very familiar pair of shoes. He’d seen those recently, those same red and black accents, but only more well-worn and on feet that jump too high and chase after him too closely. He’d stared down at those in his defeat, avoiding bright red eyes that have always seemed to look at him too deeply.

He feels Satsuki come up beside him, and above her lilting tone — “How about this one, Dai-chan?” — he hears someone else’s voice, from a memory that is still so very fresh yet already has played in his head far more than a dozen times.

_‘Let’s play again.’_

“Or this?”

_‘I’ll take you down anytime.’_

“I think you’d like this one.”

_‘I’m not glad I played with you — ’_

“Dai-chan!”

He startles and looks down at Satsuki, who was a second too late in masking her worry behind a mock pout. He turns to her fully, blinking away the haze in his mind.

“I said, here,” she shoves something against his chest when he fails to respond right away. “Why don’t you try it on?”

“...Okay,” he agrees without thinking.

 _“Not_ okay!” Satsuki grabs his arm, stopping him from heading towards the small benches lined up in front of the mirrors. She takes the shoes from him and dangles it under his nose. “These sneakers are half your size, have zebra prints, and have really thin neon orange soles. Zebra prints _and_ neon, Dai-chan!”

She sounds offended and she very much has reason to be because _that_ is the ugliest damn pair of shoes he’d ever seen in his life.

“Geez, Satsuki. You gonna buy that thing?”

“ _You_ were!”

He stares at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Why the hell would I? They’re flimsy-looking and probably won’t last me a week.” He then scrutinizes it more closely. “And it’s _tiny_.”

“Exactly!” Satsuki almost shrieks, hand flailing around in agitation. “You were just standing there, obviously not listening to me, and, and… _ugh,_ ” she pauses and lets out a sigh, “never mind. I’ll just put these back on its shelf and _please_ pick a pair already that isn’t the one you’ve been staring at for almost half an hour. You already have those in different colors, Dai-chan!” she adds over her shoulder as she turns on her heels and walks away.

He does? It’s kinda hard to remember what with all the boxes stuffed in his closet. But now that he thinks about it, there were those shoes he bought on a whim during his birthday...

His phone rings and he takes it out of his pocket distractedly, his eyes flicking up to the shoes briefly before looking down at the screen.

 _‘Hello Aomine-kun,’_ the text reads, and at first Daiki doesn’t register the message nor the sender. What he notices instead are the string of texts before it, a bunch of ‘ _Are you okay, Aomine-kun?’_ s and _‘You missed practice again today. Are you alright?’_ s and other such versions of concern and worry. All of them dating back to over a year ago and all of which has since remained unanswered.

The phone pings with another text, and as he scrolls down through each ignored message he tells himself that it’s better to not have responded than send a lie that won’t fool anyone, least of all Tetsu. The thought, predictably, does absolutely jack shit at easing the guilt churning unpleasantly in his gut.

A year. He’s been ignoring Tetsu for a _year_.

He thumbs the screen just as it starts to dim. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, a censure of some sort, maybe? After all, like him, Tetsu’s just been reminded about all the messages he sent that Daiki hadn’t bothered to answer.

But Tetsu’s text is a simple ‘ _Can we please meet up today?’_ and Daiki blinks blearily down at the screen, expecting anything but that. Curious and mildly suspicious, he sends back — _‘what for?’_

 _‘I have a favor to ask’,_ comes the just-as-vague reply, then just a few seconds after, ‘ _I would like to explain it face to face, if that’s alright’._

A favor? He can’t remember a time during Teikou when Tetsu has asked him for one. More often than not, it was Daiki who was asking favors, mostly food- and homework-related ones. So what was so important that Tetsu’s reaching out to _him_ , and now of all times too?

Also… would _he_ be there? Daiki’s not sure he wanna see that guy again anytime soon. Now that he knows, or at least suspects that...

He sighs, rubbing at his neck tiredly. No use really wondering about it all on his own. He could just ask. If he’s really right about that guy, then it’s likely that Tetsu knows why Daiki is asking; he’s scarily perceptive about these things after all.

A dull ache is starting to form behind his eyes. Trust him to overthink things to the point of losing a whole night’s sleep and getting a headache.

‘ _you coming alone?’_ he sends before he can think twice about it.

A minute later and Tetsu still hasn’t replied. Daiki _knows_ he’s read his question, it says so beside the damn text, so why hasn’t he answered yet?

He glares at the screen and lets out an irritated huff, and the store clerk from over the Asics corner gives him a suspicious look. Daiki gives him a mild glare before he turns, shooting glances at his phone as he heads down a different aisle.

When the bubble showing that Tetsu has started typing finally pops up a couple of minutes after that, he feels anything but relieved though. In fact, watching the stupid little dots just makes him more anxious. _Why is he taking so long? It’s just a yes or no question!_ he thinks, almost panicky.

The phone pings again, and he abruptly stops in his pacing. Someone behind him grunts, but he barely notices it.

 _‘Kagami-kun and the others won’t be coming with me.’_ Tetsu tells him, the words plain and innocuous, but somehow he still hears it in Tetsu’s quietly pointed tone.

“Wasn’t asking about _that_ ,” he grumbles under his breath as he types and sends out another question.

Tetsu replies with a time and place almost instantly, and Daiki starts to get the feeling that Tetsu did deliberately make him wait for that stupid text earlier just to make him nervous. Daiki wouldn’t put it past him, and now he’s half tempted to not respond at all.

But it’s too early to be repeating the same mistakes, so in the end, he sends back a curt _‘fine_ ’, hoping that it conveys the extent of his disgruntlement.

He pockets his phone and looks up, his eyes immediately locking on to another pair of shoes with deep red lines and accents bleeding into the darkest of blues.

_This one._

He grabs it just as Satsuki saunters next to him, her arms ladened with two boxes of her own shoes. Then he drops it, along with his wallet, right on top of the second box.

“Have you picked — ? Hey! _Dai-chan where are you going!_ ”

“Buy that in my size!” he says over his shoulder before continuing to hurry out of the store.

Satsuki calls out his name, this time sounding more annoyed than concerned and though he’s barely one step out the door, he knows she’s gonna give him hell for ditching her like this. But he’ll suffer through it later because there are things he still need to talk to Tetsu about now, alone. Like Teikou and their match and all the time between that. And then…

Maybe Daiki will ask about Ka— his— _that guy_ too.

**

Or maybe he won’t.

He’s never been good at talking about important stuff. When faced with a troublesome situation, his first instinct is to ignore it for as long as he possibly can, and when he can’t avoid it any longer, he’ll deflect, deny, and lie his way around it until it’s already biting him in the ass.

And that’s when the words finally come out. Clumsy, thoughtless, heated, sometimes hurtful, more often untrue.

Today has seen him in a rather solemn mood, brought about by an exhaustion that goes beyond the physical. And in a rare bout of honesty, he spills to Tetsu just how much their match has affected him — the remembrance of various points in the game, the frustration of the loss, and the resulting sleeplessness and ever growing restlessness.

It was, by far, his worst night. But despite all that... he was filled with an undeniable desire to play again. To feel the dimpled surface of the ball on his hand and the adrenaline in his veins.

Relief rushes through him at the admission, finally spoken out loud instead of silently pondered about. But in the wake of that was something not unlike panic, and he balks at the thought of revealing more and appearing any more vulnerable and exposed than he already feels he is.

Besides, now isn’t the time. Tetsu called him out here to ask for help. He has to do this for Tetsu first, because Daiki owes him, for helping him when he hadn’t even asked for it (it’s a valid reason, he tells the nagging voice in his sleep-deprived brain that keeps calling him a coward).

So he swallows down the questions that had been swimming in his head since Daiki heard him against last night and recalled conversations he thought he’d long forgotten — _What’s he like? Does he hates dogs? Likes cheeseburgers? Hates studying? Does he cook? Did he come back from America? Is Kagami my_ — and instead, he hides behind his usual gruff indifference.

“I’ll help you out, since I don’t have much of a choice,” he says. And he really doesn’t have one, because he recognizes this for what it is — his second chance to make things right, to rebuild burnt down bridges, and to mend broken trusts. The only option is to accept and he’ll take it.

Not because he has to, but because he _wants_ to.

“I’ll teach you how to shoot. Got it?”

The subtle surprise on Tetsu’s face melts into a soft, pleased look. “We used to practice like this often during middle school. Right, Aomine-kun?”

He scowls, his earlier attempt at nonchalance crumbling away into embarrassment. “Just shut the crap up and start shooting! You don’t have time to waste, right?!” he says, but as Tetsu’s quiet chuckles fill the otherwise empty basketball court, he feels some small part of him calm and settle.

When Tetsu turns away to stand in the free throw line, ball between his hands and eyes focused on the hoop, Daiki finally lets the smile tug freely at his lips.

He can take this as one step forward, right?

* * *

 

“We won today’s match, by the way.”

“Ah? You say that like it’s shocking news.”

“Oh? I’m glad to hear that you have faith in our skills and that we would win.”

“That isn’t — I wasn’t — you know what I mean!”

Tetsu ignores him and dribbles the ball, but it apparently has other ideas as it slips from his fingers and bounces away to the other end of the court.

Daiki stifles a laugh. He wasn’t able to last night, when Tetsu fumbled the ball and it hit him squarely on the nose. Needless to say that Tetsu’s hand chops were still as painful as Daiki remembered them to be.

“Today’s victory was all thanks to the senpai,” Tetsu says when he has retrieved the errant ball and he’s once again facing the hoop. “Kagami-kun and I didn’t play. Coach had him rest from the training he’d been having with his mentor from when he was younger and he lived in America.”

“He lived in — ? I-I mean, so what?” Damn Tetsu.

But the other boy just ignores him again and raises his arms in the stance he’d been adapting since earlier. It’s the opposite of a proper shooting form, with his left hand supporting the ball from below and the palm of his right hand pushing at it like he would if he’s _passing_ it; it’s unorthodox and far from perfect, and in the hours that they’ve spent in the court today, not even one has made it to the goal.

So when the ball does make it this time, Daiki makes a surprised noise, echoed more loudly by Tetsu.

“You did it!” Daiki crows. He steps beside Tetsu and ruffles his hair, only stopping when he gets a sharp jab to the ribs and the top of the other’s head has turned into a tangled mess not much different from a bed head.

“Yes,” Tetsu says as he runs his fingers through his hair and tries to straighten it out. He huffs a breath when the action only makes it worse. “Though it is the first out of many, so I still have a ways to go,” he adds, and his tone is so matter-of-fact, but the triumph and pride is clear in the brightness of his eyes and the faint upward turn of his mouth.

Daiki grins through the wince of pain from his abused side. He walks to where the ball has rolled to a stop and stoops down to grab it. “Here, then. So make lots more.”

There’s a small answering grin in Tetsu’s face as he catches the pass. It then shifts to a determined look as he once again gets into form.

Daiki stands off to the side, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket as he watches shot after shot, pointing out suggestions but mostly just observing and trying not to think about the thing Tetsu unwittingly — oh who is he kidding? that was most likely intentional — dumped on him about Kagami, along with its implications.

There’d be time to mull it over when he’s back at home and alone.

Within the next hour and a half, Tetsu has made only three more shots, and though Daiki can see from the stubborn set of his jaw that he still wants to continue, Daiki can also see the slight trembling in his arms and the quickness to his breath. Not to mention that it has already gotten quite dark.

“Tetsu — ”

“Just one more.”

Daiki has expected that, so even before the last word has left Tetsu’s mouth, he’s already in front of him and stealing the ball from his weak hold. “No way. You’re exhausted and you still have a match tomorrow.”

“I’m fi—”

“Yeah, I’ve heard _that_ before,” he says with an eyebrow raised in silent challenge. _From my own lying mouth,_ he doesn’t say, but Tetsu still gets it and he looks up at him, startled.

“I understand,” he mumbles, voice low and a tad sheepish. “I apologize — ”

“Nah, I get it.” Daiki knows the feeling of pushing past your limits, of wanting to improve and get stronger even though your muscles are straining and screaming in pain from hellish training. Granted, it’s been a long time since he has felt such an urge, but like the feeling of losing, he _knows_ it.

Tetsu smiles, reaching for the ball and tucking it under his arm. “Why don’t we grab something to eat before we part ways then?”

“Eh? Sure why not.”

He waits by the side as the other packs up. Tetsu pauses briefly to type on his phone, probably telling his parents that he’d be home late. Daiki, meanwhile, doesn’t even bother.

“There is a Maji Burger near here. Are you fine with that?” Tetsu asks as he shoulders his bag and they walk side by side down the sidewalk.

“Yeah. You know their teriyaki burgers are the best.”

“I have it on good authority that their cheeseburgers are better,” Tetsu says, a familiar thread of amusement in his voice that Daiki has gotten well acquainted with from all the snarky quips, mostly at his expense, that he has heard before. And he’s right to be wary of it, because a second later Tetsu glances at him sideways and says, very pointedly, “Kagami-kun likes it.”

“Really,” he drawls as he shoots Tetsu an unimpressed look.

“Yes. Kagami-kun enjoys cooking them too.”

“Does he,” he says in reply, trying to sound deadpan and not desperately curious. Even though he totally is.

The small smirk on Tetsu’s face tells him that he convinced no one and he sits through the next hour of _‘Kagami-kun this’_ and _‘Kagami-kun that_ ’ in exasperated patience and silent expectance. By the end of it, he knows more about the guy than he’s comfortable with and he’s pretty positive Tetsu is doing this on purpose and that he’s loving every second of it too, the little shit.

Stupid Tetsu. And stupid Kagami too.

What kind of dumbass even gets scared of dogs?

* * *

 

“Do I really have to go?”

Satsuki turns to him with an impatient look. “For the hundredth time, Dai-chan, stop whining! Tetsu-kun is playing against Mukkun today! We need to watch it.”

“I wasn’t whin— Whatever,” he grumbles before falling into a disgruntled silence.

They’re walking up the stairs towards the stadium grounds when Satsuki speaks again.

“What’s that face for?”

“Hah?”

“You get that look when you’re thinking hard about something. Ah!” she wags a finger under his nose. “You’re not thinking of another excuse to come running back home are you?”

He swats Satsuki’s hand away. “I’m not,” he says, miffed. “And I _did_ leave my phone at home.”

“Oh,” she cries, hand on her cheek, “To think we were just with Tetsu-kun earlier and that we could have walked here with him!”

His only response is a roll of his eyes.

The stadium lobby is almost empty, with only a few players in their warmups loitering around the open areas and a couple in casual clothing standing by the board with the match schedules. Satsuki heads straight to the hallway leading to the stands, her steps almost frantic.

“Dai-chan hurry! Why are you walking so slowly?!”

“If you wanted to watch so badly, you should have gone by yourself, jeez,” he says, annoyed.

She grabs his arm and pulls him along. “Oh please! Like you don’t want to watch it too. C’mon~ say you don’t.”

Daiki frowns at her raised brow and pointed look. “I…”

He can’t say it. Doesn’t want to. Because not only will Satsuki hear the lie in his words, that guy will too.

Though can half a truth even be considered a lie? He does want to be here, to see Tetsu make that shot (and he will, Daiki has no doubt) for the first time in an official match. But at the same time he doesn’t want to be here, when he knows — _feels —_ who else is down there on the court, wearing that number ten jersey.

Satsuki seems to take his silence as an answer and she smiles, smug, as she tugs at the sleeve of his jacket. _“Hurry!_ The match has already started! And don’t grumble like a kid. You should at least try to make up for ditching me the other day.”

“But that was Tetsu’s fault, not mine,” he says as they stop by an empty space along the top railing circling the upper stands.

The shrill noise of the buzzer rings loudly in the stadium, cutting off any argument from Satsuki and signalling the start of the second quarter. The players of both teams enter the court, a mix of blacks and reds and whites and purples.

And it’s with quiet resignation that he finds his gaze drawn, as it always is, to the familiar sight of Kagami Taiga and his bright red eyes.

**

Seirin has it rough right from the start, what with them being pitted against a defensive powerhouse team like Yosen and the giant pole that is Murasakibara. They start the quarter with a dismal eighteen-zero score, only barely managing to keep it from being a twenty-point deficit through a bold combination play from their center, Kagami, and Tetsu.

That shot was not only Seirin’s first for this match, but also Tetsu’s first official one. It has been a remarkable shot, due to its unusual form and the fact that it seemingly vanishes out of thin air. But more than that, it has served as their much-needed catalyst for a change in momentum and the start of their own attack.

And throughout all the exchange of offense and defense over the next two quarters, the player changes and the timeouts, Daiki’s attention never strays away from Kagami for more than a couple of seconds. It’s absolutely aggravating, because try as he might to glance away, the next moment he’d be looking back at that stupid red head again without fail.

He only gives it up as a lost cause when, five minutes into the last quarter, Kagami stops Murasakibara’s dunk one-handedly. From then on, he doesn’t want to look away, doesn’t even want to blink. Because Kagami in the depths of the Zone is a spectacle to see; his mere presence under the hoop intense and heavy and his movements powerful and wild. It’s so different, seeing it from this point of view. And Daiki, he…

He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want to be here, up in the stands, out of reach, watching as Kagami plays seriously against someone else, someone not him. No, he wants to be there on the court, close-up — stealing that pass, stopping that shot, scoring past that solid block, knocking down that last dunk that secured Seirin’s win, that dunk that’s meteor-like in its height and strength and it’s amazing and —

 _Shit_. Can Daiki even stop it? Is he fast enough? Can he reach that high?

He wants to try. He wants to play. He wants to, he wants to, he wants to —

When the clock blinks to zero and the whistle blows and the crowd erupts in a joyous roar, he stands there feeling keyed up, feeling restless, and wanting so fucking badly to play.

To play again against Kagami.

**

The last of the resounding cheers have yet to settle down and the court hasn’t even cleared when he abruptly turns and walks away.

“Dai-chan, where are you going?”

“Home.” Where it’s quiet and he can be alone and there aren’t any happily-grinning redheads who steal all his focus and occupy his thoughts.

He hears Satsuki follow after him with hurried steps.

“But the next match is Ki-chan’s — ”

A quiet noncommittal hum is all he gives as he weaves through the small groups of people that has already gathered towards the nearest exit. They easily part in front of him due to his bulk and the frown he knows is pulling at his brows and mouth. Satsuki has a harder time of navigating the crowd though, from what he can hear from her various mumbled apologies a short distance back.

He has made it past the door and towards the lobby when Satsuki calls out to him again.

“Wait Dai-chan you dummy! Ki-chan will be up against Shougo-kun!”

 _That_ gets his attention, making him stop in his tracks and turn around, ignoring the indignant squawk from the guy walking behind him. “Haah?! Haizaki will be in the next match?”

Satsuki throws him a glare. “Yes,” she says as she draws closer. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! Ugh I think someone stepped on my foot.” She then flops down on one of the seats around the nearest round table, sighing as she stretches out her legs.

Daiki silently endures the first few kicks to his shin before he moves away with a huff. “Tch. I thought that guy already quit.”

“Apparently not. I just hope nothing bad happens. Both Tetsu-kun and Ki-chan have been looking forward to their rematch…” she says before falling into silence, her fingers carding restlessly through the ends of her hair.

“Hn.”

“So you’re going to stay and watch?” Satsuki asks after a while. She sounds worried and she has a right to be. Haizaki is bad news. Always have and always will be. Just thinking that such an annoying bastard has come back makes Daiki’s previously good mood turn sour.

“Not like I have a choice,” he drawls, heaving a dramatically disgruntled sigh.

It’s Satsuki’s turn to roll her eyes at him, and with a falsely sweet voice and another kick to his leg, she says, “Great! And because you made me come running after you, can you please go and fetch me a drink, pretty please?” and he does go and fetch her a drink from the nearby vending machine, grumbling about pesky childhood friends under his breath.

When Satsuki takes one final sip from her can of soda some ten minutes later, they leave the table and start to make their way back to the stands.

They turn down the corner, walking past people starting to fill the seats. He glances down on the court. He doesn’t see either Haizaki nor Kise among the players doing warm-up drills, but if Satsuki says Haizaki’s back, then he surely is. Daiki had tried to make light of it earlier, to make her at ease, if only slightly. He has a bad feeling about it all the same though, and he’s anticipating the worst.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he notices it _way too late._ One second he’s scowling down at the court, thinking back to all the time Haizaki’s been a jerk.

And then the next second he feels _him_ , _right fucking there —_ suddenly way too close, then much closer still, their shoulders bumping hard, and then there’s warmth but it’s quick to go because he’s already stumbling a couple of steps back, stunned then angry, a curse on the tip of his tongue that crumbles to shocked silence when he blinks and he sees —

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, you — !” Red blinks back, angry then stunned, whispering, “A-Aomine?”

“Uh,” Daiki mumbles dumbly.

“Dai-chan, why are you — oh, Kagamin!”

What the heck? What the actual heck? What were the chances of them literally bumping into each other in a crowded place like this? He didn’t even feel the usual signs in time to run the other way! _I’m not ready,_ his mind shouts, _I should’ve gone home!_

“Momoi… uh, -san...” Kagami mumbles, glancing away and then glancing right back and holding Daiki’s own wide-eyed stare.

_Thumpthumpthump_

Silence.

_Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump_

Awkward silence. And staring. Fucking awkward staring. The floor can swallow him up anytime now, please and thanks.

 _“So~”_ Satsuki chirps from beside him, and Daiki startles so bad he makes an embarrassing high-pitched sound and jumps an inch off the ground.

“Fuck’s sake, Satsuki!” he says hotly, one hand clutched at his chest, feeling the pounding there growing even faster and louder than before.

A muffled snort of laughter makes him whirl around. Kagami coughs into his fist and gives him a sheepish look.

Daiki just glares right back.

“We watched your match earlier, Kagamin!” Satsuki says, completely ignoring his outburst.

“Ah, I know. I felt — ” Kagami starts, but the grin falls off his face and he clamps his mouth shut, looking faintly embarrassed.

 _He felt you there,_ Daiki’s traitorous mind happily fills in the gaps though, and he sends it a mental _fuck you!_ just as the _thumpthumpthump_ starts to pick up again.

Satsuki begins another inane conversation with Kagami and Daiki wants to tell him to quit it. To stop shooting him glances and looking at him with a quiet sort of wonder that he can’t understand. But Daiki can’t say it because he’s not any better. After all, he hadn’t once looked away for more than a few seconds since he’d realized it was Kagami standing in front of him.

They’re still talking and he finds himself tuning out the words, tuning all the noise out until all he’s hearing clearly is the cadence of Kagami’s voice as he gives Satsuki short, tentative answers. And it throws him for a loop, makes him just stand there, staring and being uncharacteristically quiet, because Kagami being so soft-spoken like this, sounding almost shy… he has heard it before.

Years ago, on that _fateful exchange,_ or whatever that bespectacled green-haired nerd called it. And the things they’ve told each other… damn, they had sounded so goddamn _cheesy_.

He hears Satsuki’s excited squeal and it snaps him out of his thoughts. He knows from past experience that something outrageous will be coming out of her mouth right about now —

“Why don’t you stay and watch Ki-chan’s match with us Kagamin? Dai-chan wouldn’t mind. Right Dai-chan?”

— and he’s right. _Goddamnit Satsuki!_

Daiki scowls at her, she smiles not-so-innocently back, and Kagami stares holes at the side of his head.

“Dai-chan?” Satsuki prompts, sounding absolutely amused when he doesn’t answer right away.

As if he could! He doesn’t even know what’s the truth and what’s the lie, and he’s not sure he wants to wait until it’s out of his mouth to find out. But when he looks away — at the floor, at the stadium lights, and then in front of him, he is met with a look of expectant silence on Kagami’s face.

Daiki swallows hard. Hesitates. “I — ” _Speak, you moron!_ “Your shoes.”

Kagami blinks, then glances down. “My… shoes?”

“It’s...” He clears his throat as he shifts on his feet. “It’s about to fall apart. How careless can you be? Idiot,” he adds, voice taking on his usual mocking tone without him meaning to, and oh man now _he_ feels like an idiot. Can they just go back to the awkward silence from before?

“The hell…?” Kagami mutters, weird split eyebrows drawing together in mild annoyance. “They look fine to me. I’m not careless!”

“Then you don’t deny you’re an idio— ”

“Kagami! Over here!”

Both of them turn towards the noise to see a brunet, which Daiki vaguely remembers from their previous match, waving at them. The rest of Seirin are walking ahead of him, probably headed to the free seats on the other side of the stands. He can almost see Tetsu’s head of pale blue hair among them if he squints.

“Ah, that’s my senpai,” Kagami says, sounding hesitant as he waves back briefly. “I’d _really_ like to stay, but tomorrow we’ll be playing the team who wins the next match, so… I have to go watch it with them.”

“I… see.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah. Uh. I guess I’ll see you around, Aomine.”

Then he smiles — small and tentative but definitely there — and Daiki gets caught off guard by it and only manages to blink through his surprise. He vaguely hears Kagami say goodbye before he walks away and eventually gets swallowed up by the crowd.

“Really, Dai-chan?” Satsuki speaks and he startles, almost forgetting about her presence _again._ “The first proper words you say to him and you insult his shoes and call him an idiot?”

He casts one final glance around, but Kagami’s out of sight. Gone. Only he isn’t, because Daiki can _feel_ him there. He’s somewhere nearby.

Daiki doesn’t expect the rush of relief that sweeps through him at that certainty.

He looks at Satsuki and shrugs, still feeling a bit off-balance by that whole encounter. “Well, they were. I bet it won’t last till tomorrow. And the idiot part… well. Ah — wait, forget about that! You,” he points a finger at her. “Spill. How long have you known?”

Because she knows, Daiki’s sure of it. Why else would they be chatting with such an easy familiarity? And _Kagamin,_ really? From what he knows, she hasn’t even talked to the guy more than once. Certainly not enough for her to develop an attachment and start giving him nicknames.

“Oh, the match is starting!” Satsuki says, all cheery and evasive, just as the buzzer rings.

“Don’t think you’re gonna get away with not telling me!”

“Well, what exactly are you asking about? How long have I known what?”

“That he’s my — that we’re — you know what? _Whatever,_ don’t tell me.”

“Okay Dai-chan, if you don’t really wanna know…”

Daiki wishes he’s just imagining the wicked smirk on her face, but no. It’s there and it’s just as cunning as Tetsu’s. Well, he’s not gonna admit anything just yet. So his only reply to that is an aggrieved click of the tongue.

His friends are all goddamn busybodies.

**

“Too bad Kagamin couldn’t stay, right? It sounded like he _really_ wanted to.”

“Did he now.” Nope. Daiki’s not gonna fall for that one.

“Are you looking for someone? You haven’t been watching the match closely.”

He whips his head back down to the court so fast he feels something in his neck twinge. “I’m watching,” he says, trying to hide a wince.

Satsuki, meanwhile, doesn’t bother trying to hide her chuckles. Her amusement and his inattentiveness are short-lived though, as down on the court, Haizaki once again does what he does best: stealing other people’s moves and being an asshole about it at the same time.

Daiki has never liked watching Haizaki play. How he breezes past teammates and opponents alike, not caring for anybody’s effort as he steals whatever move catches his fancy, rubbing the fact that he can do it better in everyone else’s faces with the clear intention of unbalancing them, shaking them off their play. This time is no exception.

The game continues with a back and forth of copied and stolen moves that, as it turns out with each passing minute and a slowly widening point gap, Haizaki has the upper hand on. He wasn’t a former Teikou regular for nothing. Add to that the strain on his leg Kise can’t completely hide… It’s not looking good.

And in what seems like no time at all, there’s a mere five minutes remaining on the fourth quarter, with Kaijou thirteen points behind and Kise on the floor, panting and in pain.

It’s an uncannily familiar scene, one from Daiki’s own match, only this time, it’s Haizaki looking down his nose at Kise, not him.

“Oh no, Ki-chan…” he hears Satsuki whisper behind him.

Kise’s kneeling on the floor, head bowed and fists clenched. In front of him, Haizaki’s mouth is moving around soundless words, but they don’t need to hear him to know that they are dripping with vitriol.

This too, Daiki is familiar with. He himself has done it to others after all. And it makes him grit his teeth, feeling guilt and shame boil in his gut. Minus the stealing part, he and Haizaki are almost the same. On the court, they’re selfish, arrogant. They play alone, sneering at everyone else because they think themselves the strongest.

But they aren’t. Tetsu and Kagami have proven that to him, and now —

“I believe in you! Kise-kun!” a voice calls out loudly from the stands.

“Is that Tetsu-kun?!”

“Hah! Who would’ve thought we’d hear Tetsu cheer like that. Embarrassing.”

It works though. The second Kise’s back on his feet and the match resumes, the ball goes sailing in a high arc from one end of the court to the goal on the other side.

 _That bastard! That’s Midorima’s shot,_ Daiki thinks, grinning.

They aren’t the strongest. Now Kise will prove it to Haizaki too by beating his conceited mug to the ground.

And when the clock counts down to zero, Kise — _Kaijou_ does win, and judging by Haizaki’s murderous scowl as he stomps off the court, he’s not too ecstatic about it. Knowing him, and how vindictive he could be, he just might...

“Go back without me, Satsuki,” he says as he turns and heads towards the exit.

“What... ? Dai-chan?!”

Haizaki’s punk ass is not getting in the way of Tetsu and Kise’s rematch. Daiki will stop him. Or clock him in the face. Whatever works.

 

He comes home that night with bruised knuckles. For his first time punching someone in the nose, he thinks he did pretty well.

* * *

  

“DAI-CHAN IT’S TERRIBLE!”

He falls out of bed and scrambles to his feet, screaming, _“THE DOG ATE IT AND  —_ ow _nooo_ turn’ff the sun!” He stumbles away from the now-opened curtain, dropping the pillow he’s been holding and falling flat on his butt with a groan.

“Oh it’s terrible!” the intruder says again, loud and distraught. He hears a door open.

Daiki blinks and tries to squint through the suddenly too-bright room. There’s a blur of pink over by what he’s pretty sure is his closet. “Sa’ssuki? What’re you doin’?” he slurs, trying to rub the sleep from his heavily-crusted eyes.

She drops a pile of clothes on his lap in reply.

“Get changed, Dai-chan. Tetsu-kun needs our help!”

“Why, is he dying?” he asks, alarmed, his voice muffled by the shirt he’s pulling over his head.

“No, worse. He needs shoes!” The sound of her rummaging through his stack of boxes is loud, as is her frustrated sigh. “Where are those pair of Air Jordans you bought for your birthday? The red and black — ah, here!”

He has just slipped his feet through his jeans when Satsuki emerges from the closet with the said box in hand. “Why does he need shoes?” he grunts as he tries to wriggle his hips into the tight denim while lying on his back.

“Dai-chan, you are an overgrown child who can’t dress himself properly.”

“And you interrupted my sleep, you hag _uuhh_ , um _woman!_ I should just — ”

“Nooo,” she whines as she tugs on the hem of his shirt, “don’t crawl back to your bed _Dai-chaaaaan!_ ”

In the end, Satsuki manages to cajole his half-asleep self to his feet, down the stairs, and out the house with only mild grumbling and protests. She pushes and pulls him along, chirping about one thing or the other, and it’s only when the street court comes into view that he thinks to asks —

“Wait. Why does Tetsu need _my_ shoes?”

“Oh, Dai-chan.”

He stops abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk as the realization hits him. “He’s there, isn’t he!”

“What are you — ”

 _“Kagami,”_ he hisses under his breath. He shuffles towards the copse of trees just around the corner, trying to make himself smaller. “I can feel him over there, you sneaky — !”

“Aomine-kun, Momoi-san.”

Someone shrieks and it might have been him but he’ll never ever admit it.

Tetsu, who’s suddenly in front of them, is staring at him in that weird way of his where he says nothing and does nothing else and yet somehow you just know that he’s secretly laughing at you. Yeah, he’s definitely doing that right now.

“Tch. Don’t look at me,” Daiki grouses.

This time, a smidgen of amusement makes its way to Tetsu’s face before he turns and leads the way to the court.

Daiki shifts where he stands, hesitant, until Satsuki huffs and nudges him hard on the side and he has no choice but to follow. He’s being forced against his will here!  

“Thank you for coming. I’m sorry for the sudden call Momoi-san.”

“No problem, no problem. You’re totally welcome Tetsu-kun!” Satsuki says as she drifts to his side, all flustered and bubbly like she’s a second away from glomping him to the ground.

Not that Daiki would have noticed if she did, because as soon as they have stepped past the entrance, Kagami has stolen all of his attention once again, the bastard.

He doesn’t seem surprised to see Daiki there, instead he looks something between annoyed and embarrassed. “I’m glad you’re helping me find basketball shoes,” Kagami tells Satsuki, before shifting a defensive look back at him. “But why are you here too Aomine? You… Don’t tell me you came here just to say ‘I told you so’.”

“Well, no. But now that you mention it,” he smirks, “I told you so, _idiot_.”

Kagami splutters, and before Daiki can internally chastise himself for having insulted the guy again the moment he opened his mouth, Satsuki cuts in.

“Dai-chan has a ton of basketball shoes so he said he’ll give you one, Kagamin!”

Now it’s Daiki’s turn to splutter in outrage.

“What the heck?! I never said that.” He didn’t even know the shoes were for this guy! “Don’t mess with me Satsuki!”

“You both have the same size too! Here look,” she says as she pulls out the box from her bag and thrusts it to Kagami’s chest, “You like using the same model, right? This one’s the same as your previous pair, although the colors are a bit different!”

“Don’t take my Jordans without my permission!”

“You were fine with it when you thought it was for Tetsu-kun! Which was funny because there was no way it would have fit him.”

“I was half-asleep, give me a break!”

“Oh, these colors are nice too…”

The awed whisper snags at his attention, and he turns to see Kagami looking down at the opened box with an open, almost childlike amazement, so at odds from the annoyance and anger that Daiki had gotten used to seeing from him since they first met.

Like this, Kagami looks… different

“...I’ll give it to you,” he says, the words rushing out of him without thought, and he feels the shock on his face as clearly as he can now see it on Kagami’s. He looks away, spots the ball by the other’s feet and hurries on to add, “Only if you beat me one-on-one though.”

“Wha— I have to be in a match pretty soon!”

“Just a three-basket game. It won’t take long.”

Kagami’s expression goes from stubborn hesitation to excitement and back again. “I told you — ”

“Just do it,” he says, and he doesn’t give himself a chance to wonder why he’s being so insistent about this as he chucks his jacket to the bench and grabs the ball. “Ah, but no Zone okay? It’s tiring.”

“I can’t go in like you anyway!”

Daiki tilts his head, thinking back to the Yosen match where Kagami only got into that state of hyperfocus the moment he _stopped_ trying to force himself into it. “Eh. I guess I can give you a lecture about that too. Now hurry up, don’t you have a match to get to?”

Kagami puts the shoebox down and takes off his own jacket, fuming and grumbling all the way. But by the time he’s standing in front of Daiki and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, the angry set of his expression has turned into one of determination.

 _Oh._ He hadn’t known how much he had wanted to see that look again until now, at this very second where he’s face-to-face with it again.

Daiki smirks, meeting that gaze head-on.

—

“One,” he crows as the ball swishes past the net.

“Shit! I was so close!”

“Hah! No way you’ll beat me that easily.”

“I’ll show you!”

Not even a minute later, Daiki has stolen back possession, and with a growl, Kagami’s on him, arms splayed wide in defense. Intent on stopping him.

By his side, the ball bounces on the concrete in time with the thumping against his chest.

Quick and loud.

—

“That’s two.”

“Dammit! How’d that even go in?” Kagami says, sounding half-frustrated and half-impressed.

He tries not to look too smug at the compliment. Instead, as Kagami goes and retrieves the ball, he decides to lecture him about how to get into the Zone. ‘Cause Kagami’s first attempts against Murasakibara was pitiful, really. And well, he’s just a generous guy like that. Really.

It’s definitely not because he wants to see Kagami play in the Zone again.

—

The third time they face on the paint, Kagami makes it harder for him to get the ball back in his hands.

They’re both crouched low, stance loose and eyes alert.  

Daiki’s calm, focused. Only outside though. Inside he’s hyped up. So damn giddy he almost wants to give the next point to Kagami just so they can play longer. But he won’t. He has a feeling Kagami wouldn’t appreciate being handed an easy basket like that.

Besides, there’ll be many more one-on-ones in the future, he’s sure. He’ll make it so.

And with that certainty in mind, he steals the ball and dunks it over Kagami’s head.

**

It should’ve been the perfect ending to the match. Except he used his left hand. The one he used to punch the smirk off of Haizaki’s face.

The hoop clangs loudly, and he flinches as the force of the dunk shudders violently through him. As soon as his feet land on the ground, he brings his hand up and sees that the bruising along his knuckles has become more visible compared to last night.

“Ow,” he hisses as he tries to stretch his hand out. He’d mostly been able to ignore the slight discomfort earlier, but now, even the slightest bit of movement is causing sharp pangs of pain to course all the way to his bones.

Fingers curl tightly around his wrist then, and an altogether different kind of sensation prickles through his skin, a stark contrast to the brief accidental grazes they’ve been making during the game. This one, it _burns,_ and he’s not fast enough to smother the gasp that leaves him at the touch.

“What happened?” Kagami asks, and though his grip is rough, his voice is not. He sounds and looks concerned as he stares fixedly down at Daiki’s hand.

"It’s… it’s nothing,” he starts to say, but Kagami jerks his head back up, red eyes boring into his, wholly disbelieving. Daiki swallows, conflicted, and finds himself spilling the truth about Haizaki instead.

Fury seeps into Kagami’s face and Daiki unconsciously leans back. “You can’t just go around slugging people like that! What were you thinking? And you shouldn’t be injuring your hands like this — how will you play properly like that!”

“Still beat you just now, didn’t I?” Daiki sneers. He’s disconcerted, confused at Kagami’s sudden aggression, and his confusion inevitably bleeds into ire. “What’s the fucking big deal anyway? It doesn’t even hurt — ”

He’s cut off by the tightening hold on his wrist and the fist yanking him forward by the collar of his sweater. He grabs at Kagami’s arm in reflex, but the curse dies on the tip of his tongue from what Kagami says next, in a voice of mixed frustration and anger, mirrored clearly on his glare and the downward twist of his mouth.

“I _heard_ you! Stop lying to me!” he says, and the breath catches painfully in Daiki’s throat.

There had been a moment earlier, during a brief pause in their game where he called Kagami an idiot again, where he wondered why this time was so different, so easy, being around the other and talking to him without the awkwardness of their last meeting.

He’d seen Kagami as just Kagami, just another person who seemed to like basketball as much as he did. And in those few minutes, he’d forgotten about anything more than that. That they are —

But now the weight of _knowing_ is back. It’s back tenfold and now he’s all too conscious of everything — of the startling awareness that they’re in each other’s personal space, of the slackening of their grips on each other’s skin, of the sight of anger slowly melting into wide-eyed surprise.

Of the fact that he lied and Kagami heard him.

Daiki knows, of course, has pieced all the clues together. But he hasn’t consciously accepted it for what it means, hasn’t thought past what will happen after he acknowledges it out loud. Hasn’t quite been ready to do so because _what if we end up like my pare—_. And now, faced with the proof of what the two of them are, all he can do is stare back in silence, his heart feeling like it’s gonna burst any second with how fast it’s beating.

In front of him, Kagami is the opposite of silent though. “It was just….I was — you were — _hurt_ and I wasn’t th…ere…” he says, the last words barely audible as he stutters and flings his hands about wildly.

For some reason, the more Kagami stands there and mutters garbled, broken Japanese, the calmer Daiki gets. It’s almost like Kagami is doing the freaking out for both of them, leaving Daiki with a weird, fluttery feeling in his stomach as he realizes that this guy, this guy who he’d dismissed and belittled is seriously concerned for him.

But he’d always been, hasn’t he? He reached out first, when Daiki said he was fine but wasn’t really. He continued talking to him, until the friendly lies slowly turned more and more desperate, the solemn whispers of _‘I don’t miss you’_ s that he scoffed at because how can you miss someone you haven’t even met before? ( _But you can, you can_ , his traitorous mind says, _you can and you did too, don’t fucking lie_ ).

Kagami is starting to look flustered as he continues rambling. “And then... you were — ”

“Shut up,” Daiki says, and Kagami does, but not without shooting him a nervous glance. He’s so tempted to turn tail and run away, but he feels like he owes Kagami at least one truth. This idiot can’t very well beat Kise if he’s worrying his little head about other things, can he? Right. “It did — does hurt.” He shrugs. “But nothing’s broken so it’ll be fine. I’ll also have Satsuki take a look. And... I won’t go around punching bastards anymore too.”

“Oh. Okay. Um, that’s good,” Kagami says, a small relieved smile pulling at his mouth that Daiki finds difficult to look at for too long.

 _Really, what an idiot,_ he thinks, not quite knowing who he’s directing the insult to.

“Whatever,” Daiki mumbles, kicking at the ground. He glances away and spots Satsuki and Tetsu by the benches, Satsuki trying to pretend she hasn’t just been looking at them anxiously and Tetsu being, well… Tetsu-like, all silent and expressionless. Damn, he’d forgotten they were there.

"Okay, I’m done,” he says as he makes his way to the bench to grab his jacket. “Let’s go, Satsuki.”

Kagami makes a panicked sound behind him just as Satsuki exclaims, “Isn’t that too fast?!”

“I said it won’t take long.” And it didn’t. Although Daiki kinda wishes it did.

“How was it?” Tetsu asks and what, were they seriously doubting him?

“I wiped the floor with him,” he says, shrugging.

“Hey, wait a sec!” shouts Kagami as he runs up to them. “One more! I haven’t won yet! The shoes, I want them. And well, I don’t really like losing to you!”

Oh right, the shoes. The fact that they were playing for something has completely escaped him the moment he first dribbled the ball.

“Aomine! One more match!” demands Kagami, mouth set in a resolute line and eyes just as unyielding. And to think this guy, not even a minute ago, has been worrying about him not being able to play. What a basketball idiot.

“Don’t you have to be in a match? Don’t be ridiculous. Here,” he says, grabbing the shoebox by Satsuki’s side and chucking it in Kagami’s direction before he can protest.

“Huh? Wait, what is this?!”

Daiki tries to act nonchalant as he busies himself with putting on his jacket. “Take it. I don't need it anyway.”

Kagami, however, is damn persistent and seems much more prideful than Daiki expected. “Like I’ll take it after losing! Here!”

“Just take it, you dumbass!” he snaps, pushing back the box Kagami is insistently holding out to him. _“Listen,”_ he says just as Kagami opens his mouth again, emphasising his words and hoping the idiot gets it, “I don’t need it. It’s fine. I’m giving it to you.”

That shuts Kagami up, and Daiki continues, “You’re playing Kise. Don’t think I’ll let you get away so easily if you put on a sloppy match because you have shitty shoes.” He turns away and looks over his shoulder. “I’ll let this match be on hold,” he says, very much aware that he’s basically saying that he’s open to the idea of having another one-on-one with Kagami. Though as he has belatedly realized, just knowing that they can play more matches after this is already enough of a compensation for the shoes.

No one else other than him needs to know that though.

For a moment Kagami still looks like he wants to argue, but a pointed call of his name by Tetsu seems to be the last push he needed as he nods stiffly. He casts his eyes down at the shoes and says, though very begrudgingly, “...Fine. My bad… I’ll take it.”

There’s a flicker of a pleased smile that flashes on Kagami’s face then, but when he looks back up at him, it’s been replaced with a determined expression. “But it’s just on hold, okay?! I’ll win it properly next time.”

Daiki blinks, taken aback. Was that a response to what he said earlier? It sounds, oddly, almost like a promise. And he would have chalked it up to his imagination, if not for the brow Kagami has raised in challenge, almost as if daring him to go back on his word.

Hah! As if he would.

“Just go already, idiot!” he scoffs as he turns and heads towards the court gates, Satsuki following closely behind after some mumbled goodbyes and well-wishes.

“Really, Dai-chan! You couldn’t be nicer to Kagamin?” she says as soon as they turn the corner and walk out of sight of the other two.

He grunts. “I was plenty nice.”

Satsuki rolls her eyes at him, but she doesn’t say anything more until they’ve stopped at a crosswalk a block away.

“You look happy, Dai-chan,” she says out of the blue, and Daiki is startled to hear that she sounds close to tears.

“Hey, what? Satsuki? Are you _crying?”_ he asks, panicky.

Her face scrunches up and she hurries to hide it behind her hand, her other swatting at his chest in time with her whines. “Dummy! Idiot Dai-chan! Dummy, dummy!”

The crowd around them glares at him in various degrees of disapproval, with a middle-aged couple even shaking their heads at him. Daiki sends them all a scathing scowl, and when the light turns green, they scamper down the street, leaving the two of them on the curb.

He clicks his tongue. Damn nosy people.

Satsuki has calmed down some by the time he looks back at her, her sobs quieting down to sniffles as she dries her eyes with her handkerchief.

Daiki sighs ruefully as he reaches out and ruffles Satsuki’s hair like he hasn’t done since their last years back at Teikou. Ah, what a goddamn softy. Really. He doesn’t think he deserves her at all.

“C’mon, let’s go to that new cafe you’ve been bugging me about,” he says as he nudges her down towards the sidewalk, keeping his hold on top her head even as she protests and tries to push his hand away.

“Ah, but what about Tetsu-kun and Kagamin’s match?”

“It’s not until after Akashi’s match. We have time.” Besides, he doesn’t wanna watch that bastard.

Satsuki hums. “Is it your treat?” she asks, already sounding like her usual chipper self.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Aw, really?”

“Geez. I just said it is, didn’t I?” he grumbles as he gives one last, rough tousling of her hair before he slips his hand in his jean’s pocket.

Satsuki yelps, and spends the rest of the walk complaining and calling him all kinds of idiot. Like usual.

Daiki, meanwhile, passes the time arguing back and calling her a nag and grinning when she pouts and tries to poke him on the side.

Just like how it used to be.

**

The cafe is a quaint little thing, filled with small round tables and spindly-backed chairs that looks so frail Daiki worries it’ll break if he puts too much weight on it. Potted plants sitting atop wooden dividers give the patrons a modicum of privacy, and the walls painted an array of pastel colors, along with the soft melody of the piano coming from the speakers and the aroma of baked goods and brewed coffee give the whole place a very warm and relaxing atmosphere. A perfect spot to escape the cool winter air from.

It’s a nice enough shop, he guesses, even though he feels so out of place here, drinking tea from a tiny delicate cup and eating cakes topped with too much strawberries and chocolate and this swirly thing he doesn’t know the name of. Seriously, why put all these effort into making food look good if it’s just gonna be eaten?

Satsuki is enjoying herself though, ooh-ing and aah-ing at all the cute decorations on her own cake and the paintings hanging on the wall by their table, so he leaves her to her excited cooing and lets his eyes wander around.

The place is filled with customers, mostly students in their uniforms, some adults in their suits, and one or two older people in their sweaters. They all seem to be enjoying the food and the ambience and the warmth. They all seem to be happy.

_‘You look happy.’_

He knows what Satsuki really meant. She meant he looks happy now, _again._ She meant he hadn’t been before, not for a long time.

It’s true he hasn’t felt… _fine_ this past year. But right now, _is_ he happy?

These last few days, waking up hasn’t once felt like a chore. He hasn’t found himself lost in dark, gloomy thoughts. Food has slowly started tasting good again and not like ash on his tongue. And when before, thinking about basketball only brings anger and bitterness, now it brings excitement and anticipation and he _yearns_ for it, a feeling so familiar from when he was a child and he touched the rough dimpled surface of the ball for the first time.

Back then it was like a revelation. Now it is like a rediscovery.

Satsuki’s voice snaps him out of his musing. “Can I have a few of your strawberries, Dai-chan?”

“Huh? Yeah go ahead,” he replies absentmindedly as he pushes the plate forward.

“Yay, thanks!”

“Oi, oi! That’s definitely not a few,” he says, glaring at more than half of the strawberries she has transferred onto her plate. His cake looks bereft all of a sudden.

But well, he does kinda owe Satsuki a lot. So he figures he’ll let her have as much strawberries as she likes. Just this once though.

The cup of tea sits forgotten in front of him, but it’s still warm, the steam rising from the dark liquid. He drops a sugar cube in it and stirs it, his attention drawn to the gentle sloshing and the tinkling of his spoon against the china.

His thoughts stray back to where they’ve been before Satsuki’s interruption. So, some things about him have changed since his defeat a few days back. Well, even he has realized that. He just hasn’t put a name to the feelings that accompanied it. But now that Satsuki has said it… maybe she is right. She is most of the time after all. Certainly more than Daiki. He does feel… content, kind of? Like his life has finally started changing for the better.

But, _but._ Everything could have turned out so differently. He could have stopped that last point in the last second and remained undefeated. Seirin could have lost to another team in the preliminaries and not have made it to the Winter Cup. Tetsu and Kagami could have gone to different schools and never became partners. Kagami could have returned a year later, or he could have never returned at all. Kagami could have been _not_ Kagami, not fierce and loyal and strong and determined, with fire in his eyes and a spring in his steps.

Kagami could have been just like Daiki, too strong and too arrogant and too jaded, too caught up in his own head and self-hatred to bother wondering if the one at the other end of the bond needs his help.

He very well could have turned out like the five of them, the so-called prodigies. He definitely has the talent. But he didn’t, and the fact that he, along with Tetsu, stands opposite them, has actually defeated most of them already, is a miracle in and of itself.

Daiki had called Kagami’s light dim, that first time they met. And now he’s eating his words, because Kagami is brighter than him, brighter than what he’ll ever be. And all these things happening the way it did… god, he sounds like Midorima, but he has no other word for it. Nothing that could explain just how life-changing it is.

It feels like...

“Hey, Satsuki,” he says into the comfortable silence, his hand rubbing at the spot where he can still faintly feel Kagami’s touch, “do you believe in fate?”

Because... well, he’s starting to.

* * *

 

He wakes up the next morning to sunlight peeking in through a gap in the curtains and straight into his eyes, a vague feeling of anticipation thrumming low on his skin, and a text from Tetsu.

_‘Yesterday, Kagami-kun played really well with the shoes you gave him. He said they fit him surprisingly well. He tried to hide it but I could tell he was very pleased.’_

Daiki blinks at the screen, still groggy from sleep and not understanding half of what he just read. When he finally does, he types back furiously, ignoring the last part of the message, ‘ _i didnt give it to him. it’s on hold, ‘k? on hold!’_

Except he did give it to Kagami and Daiki knows it. Tetsu knows it. Satsuki knows it. Fortunately, Kagami’s an idiot so he doesn’t. Probably.

His phone pings.

 _‘Kagami-kun are I very thankful for your contribution to our victory against Kise-kun,’_ reads the new message, and somehow Daiki hears it in that annoyingly blank yet teasing voice of Tetsu’s. He scowls, embarrassed. It’s not like he did anything, stupid Tetsu.

Before he gets a chance to reply though, another text comes in.

_‘I hope you and Momoi-san will continue to watch and support us in today’s finals as well.’_

He huffs, grinning despite himself. As if he’d miss it. Not when there’s a very real chance that their ex- _ohsoabsolute_ -captain will get his ass beat tonight and that finally, _finally,_ not one of them will ever say again that they’re the best and that they’re undefeated.

More than that though, he just wants to see Kagami play again. He doesn’t even want to deny it at this point. The match against Kise last night (or at least the second half which is the only part they were able to watch because Satsuki just had to go and get another damn slice of cake) was amazing as expected, but Kagami didn’t go into the Zone and that was just plain disappointing.

Daiki has a feeling though that that won’t be the case tonight.

 _‘yeah yeah we’re going,’_ he types in, pauses, then adds before he can think twice about it, _‘you better win, tetsu. tell the idiot that too’._

Daiki drops the phone on his bed as soon as he hits send and goes about his day with a restless sort of energy. He wolves down the croquettes left on the kitchen counter, watches half an episode of some volleyball anime on TV with a way too bouncy main character, washes the dishes he left on the sink but stops when he almost drops one on his foot, and tries to tidy his room but gives it up for a lost cause when he finds more than a week’s worth of clothes under his bed in various stages of wrinkle- and stinkiness.

All the while, he finds his eyes drawn to a nearby clock, counting down the hours left till the match.

When noon slowly, slowly inches to late afternoon and hues of oranges and soft reds start to streak the sky, his patience all but disappears. He throws on whatever clean-looking and okay-smelling clothes he finds in his closet, grabs his phone and wallet, and not even a minute later he’s out of the house and heading to Satsuki’s.

Her surprise at seeing him on her doorstep lasts for a second before it shifts into an all too knowing grin. After all, _she_ shows up at _his_ place to drag him out, not the other way around. He pretends not to notice it though as he demands she hurry up.

They’re nearing the stadium steps when he opens his phone again and looks at the message Tetsu has sent hours before.

 _‘Kagami-kun said, and I quote,_ “ _Don’t call me an idiot! We’ll win, just watch me.” He used some more… colorful words, but I believe you get the picture.’_

Like with Tetsu’s text earlier, this time it’s just as easy to imagine the words in Kagami’s voice, gruff and loud and just a tad annoyed. It’s even easier to imagine the face he surely made, furrowed brows over narrowed eyes and mouth pulled into a frown.

The image causes a grin to tug at his lips. Oh, he’ll watch alright. He won’t miss a single damn thing.

**

For the first time in his life, he’s glad he actually deigned to be early for something, because _of course_ Kagami decides to take the jump ball this time, instead of their center. And damn, does he jump so high.

But what has gotten him already on the edge of his seat was Kagami hurtling into the Zone within the first minute of the clock and slamming the ball from high above Akashi’s stunned face. That alone has been worth suffering through Imayoshi’s pointed questions and evilly curious smirks at seeing him there apparently of his own free will.

It’s a high-paced game right from the get-go, both teams pressing forward with their offenses and neither letting up on their defenses, trading shot after shot and executing play after play, each one more difficult and faster than the last, and the first quarter ends with the scores tied. Surprising, given who Seirin’s opponents are, with the former captain of the Miracles and the rest of the so-called Uncrowned Kings.

But that’s when the tides start to turn to Rakuzan’s favor, and the next few minutes see the point gap slowly, steadily increasing. And all too soon it becomes clear why Akashi has never let Tetsu work on his passing and shooting back at Teikou.

Tetsu had wanted to improve as a player, wanted to be able to fight on his own on the court and do more than pass the ball around, and from his efforts the vanishing drive and the phantom shot were born. However, no one — except Akashi it turns out — has known what the consequences would be. With every drive and every shot, people have slowly started to notice him, and now he’s all too suddenly _there_ and very much visible.

He’s a shadow no longer. And things start to unravel at that point.    

Seirin is not a powerhouse team made exclusively of prodigies or extremely talented players. And though more than half of them won’t be able to hold out on a one-on-one match against any of the other team’s members, together they are balanced, a well-oiled machine ran by cooperation and trust and shared tenacity in the face of opponents that are always much stronger than them.

Halfway through the match though, that all goes to shit. It starts with Tetsu, then their captain, Akashi and his minions chipping away at their foundations and at their strengths.

Anyone who has ever watched Seirin play knows that they are anything but weak-willed and easily cowed, and they put up a good fight, rallying behind Kagami when he gets back in the Zone, delves deeper and skirts the edges of the second door. And eventually they — Tetsu and Kagami — stop Akashi, even when Akashi himself pushes through the first door, but still.

But still.

His defeat seems to have acted as some sort of catalyst, because when Akashi steps back into the court after a brief timeout, he’s different. He looks like how Daiki remembers him to be, their first year at Teikou. Calmer, but no less calculating and capable.

Them Miracles have their own specialties. Tetsu has his misdirection, Daiki his formless shots. Kise has his copying skills, Midorima his three point shots. Murasakibara has his massive built, Akashi, the crazy one, has his equally crazy eyes. And this, this is what the old Akashi has. Perfectly synchronized passes that somehow puts the rest of his teammates in a hyper focused state so similar to the Zone. It sounds impossible. Should be impossible.

But their movements, sharp and quick and so perfectly executed, are proof. As is the huge point gap on the scoreboard. As is the slowly sinking dread and acceptance of defeat on the expressions of every single Seirin member, even Tetsu.

Even Kagami, kneeling by the bench and trembling with fatigue, shoulders hunched and face twisted in a look of hopelessness and anger. _He’s giving up,_ Daiki realizes. And that… that’s just wrong. Not Kagami, who Daiki has only ever seen determined and stubborn, who’s all fire and intensity and filled with the drive to win even when fighting against impossible odds on the court.

Not Kagami, who told him _we’ll win, just watch me_.

A loud shout breaks the heavy silence of the stadium, and Daiki looks to the source, to a boy calling out to Tetsu and cheering him on.

Daiki doesn’t know what comes over him. Didn’t he just call Tetsu embarrassing for cheering on Kise too, during his game against Haizaki? But he’s already on his feet before he knows it, the words coming out in a shout he hopes sounds angry more than anything.

“Hey Tetsu! Kagami!! You bastards won against us, so if you can’t beat someone like Rakuzan, I’m gonna beat you both up!” Red eyes look up at him, wide and utterly shocked, and Daiki meets his gaze, not blinking as he says, in a whisper only the two of them can hear —

“I don’t believe in you, Kagami.”

Even through the distance, he sees the sharp intake of breath Kagami makes, sees his mouth form the syllables of his name before the surprise melts away into a grin, so wide and blindingly bright that Daiki is reminded of the time he watched the sun rise, how he couldn’t take his eyes away, how it made him feel at peace and so so very warm.

And how Daiki thought it was beautiful.

**

The sound of clattering from the kitchen welcomes him as soon as he opens the door of his house. He’d been expecting the usual silence, so the sudden noise makes him stop at the genkan, half-convinced that a robber has made its way inside.

He has almost finished contemplating grabbing the coat rack when a voice calls out.

“Daiki? Is that you?”

His eyebrows rise in confusion as he hurries out of his shoes and makes his way to the kitchen. “Mom? You’re home?” he asks, a little unnecessarily, because it is clearly her puttering over the stove, her dark hair pulled up in a messy bun and most of her police uniform still on, the dark blue coat lying neatly on one of the chairs by the table.

She removes the lid on the pan, the steam rising and the aroma of sizzling meat filling the space and making Daiki’s mouth instantly water.

“Hamburg steak?”

“Yes,” his mother says, throwing him a smile from over her shoulder before she goes back to her cooking. “I got home from my shift early and I figured I should make your favorite. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Her being home this early (being at home at all) or her making his favorite? Either way, it’s true. “Yeah, it has,” he mumbles, trying not to sound too accusing.

She must have still heard something in his voice though, because she shuts the stove off and turns to him fully, giving him an apologetic look as she wipes her hands on her apron. “I’m sorry, Daiki. I know I haven’t been — ”

“Mom, it’s f—” he starts, but the rest of the word catches on his throat. It’s _not_ fine and he knows it, not when she’s barely at home, not when sometimes he doesn’t even get to see her for days, not when for the past two years she hasn’t even noticed that _he wasn’t fine_. One warm dinner, and not microwave-heated food, wouldn’t change that so easily.

His chest hurts and it’s hard to swallow the bitterness that wants to come out of his mouth. “I’m just gonna…” he says through gritted teeth, gesturing to somewhere upstairs.

A worried frown creases his mother’s features, but in the end she just gives him another smile, this one smaller and forced. “Alright. I’ll call you down once I’ve finished.”

Daiki just nods, ambling absently up the stairs and down the hallway towards his room, where he throws himself face-first into the bed and lets out a frustrated groan. There goes all his good mood.

To think he’d left the stadium after those last few minutes of play with a glimpse of the Zone beyond the second door, a strength Daiki could never have tapped into, _alone._ And when Seirin won… he had felt a giddiness, a strange sort of satisfaction. Not for himself, but for the two who made all of it possible.

 _Too bad that feeling didn’t follow me to my dreams_ , he thinks as he hears the distant clanking of pans and pots.

He considers going to sleep just to be petty, but he’s pulled out of his thoughts by the ringing of his phone. With a scowl, he pulls it out of his back pocket, not bothering to look at the screen before he answers and presses it to his ear.

“What?” he snaps, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice. At this time of night, it’s probably just Satsuki anyway, about to nag him about some homework or whatever.

“Um. Not a good time?” comes the decidedly male voice, and it’s definitely _not_ Satsuki. It’s a voice Daiki will recognize anywhere, be it over a few feet of distance, or distorted through the phone’s speakers, or even echoing in his head. And he knows without a doubt who the person calling him is, even before he says, “It’s Kagami by the way.”

Daiki sits up abruptly, almost dropping the phone, and his ass, off the bed. His eyes are wide, unseeing, and his tongue feels like it’s stuck to the roof of his mouth, heavy and unable to form the proper words to reply.

“I’ll just…” Kagami says, and even through the line Daiki can hear his hesitance, “hang up, I guess. Sorry to bother —”

“Wait!” he finally manages to bite out, and once that first word is out, the rest comes following in a rush. “It’s fine, I wasn’t doing anything. You’re not a bother. How did you get my number? Why did you call?”

 _Oh my god_ _stop talking, me!_

“I asked Kuroko earlier, I hope you don’t mind. About why I called, well…” Kagami pauses, clears his throat, and Daiki doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it sure as hell isn’t what Kagami says next. “Can we meet up? Tomorrow maybe?”

“...Why?”

“Well I wanted to… talk.”

Three guesses as to what it’s about, he thinks wryly.

He’s silent for so long Kagami ends up mumbling again, voice tentative and stuttering, so at odds to how he sounded when he was demanding a one-on-one from him that the difference is almost funny. “I mean, just for a while. But it’s okay if you don’t want to, I won’t — ”

“Fine.”

“— force you — wait, what?”

Daiki huffs, amused. _God, what an idiot, this guy._ “Tomorrow, around three. At the Maji near the court we played at yesterday.”

“Oh. Ah, okay. Great. Um. I’ll be there,” he says and Daiki rolls his eyes, because _obviously_ Kagami will be there; _he’s_ the one who asked if they could meet.

But then Kagami lets out a brief, relieved chuckle, and the almost breathless sound whooshes straight to Daiki’s ear and it’s his turn again to become tongue-tied.

“Uh yeah, okay,” he mumbles.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, Aomine,” Kagami says, and Daiki must be hearing him wrong because he sounds _fond._

“Yeah. See you,” he says in a hurry, wrenching the phone away and jabbing almost frantically at the _End Call_ button before he tosses it towards the other end of the bed and jumps to his feet.

Shit. What did he just agree to? Meeting Kagami _to_ _talk._ Talk. Him. And Kagami. Within the first minute Daiki will open his mouth and insult Kagami’s eyebrows and his basketball skills and Kagami will go flying into a rage.

It’ll be a disaster.

 _No it’ll be fine,_ he tells himself as he paces around the small space of his bedroom, trying to ignore the faint tingling heat of his ear where the phone has been pressed to and he heard Kagami’s voice from way too close.

They talked just now didn’t they? And Daiki didn’t once say something snarky.

 _It’ll be fine,_ he tells himself as he eats a dinner, then again when he sinks into the hot bath, and then one more time as he closes his eyes to sleep.

* * *

 

It’s _not_ fine.

Though Kagami didn’t mention it, there was the implied understanding that the meeting will be just the two of them. It only really sinks in, however, when he slides into the booth in front of Kagami and there’s no Satsuki or Tetsu around to act as buffers.

That had been what? Five? Ten minutes ago? And the only words they’ve said since then are —

“Hey.” That was Kagami.

“Hey.” And that was him, parroting it back like an idiot.

And from then they’ve been stewing in awkward, awkward silence that makes Daiki want to simultaneously combust and get eaten up by the ground. The silence isn’t from lack of trying, though, because Daiki _had_ tried to speak up, but as soon as he opens his mouth, the words curl and die on the tip of his tongue. Kagami seems to be having the same problem too, and he actually _growls_ when his last attempt fails yet again.

Daiki would have found the whole thing so amusing if it isn’t happening to him.

The chatter of the other customers are loud in contrast to the stilted air around their table, and it’s slowly starting to grate on his nerves. They’ve had an almost normal conversation before, so why is it so hard to start one again this time? They both know what they’re here to talk about, so why can’t Kagami just spit it out?

He chances a glance up, only to find Kagami already staring at him, and Daiki spends a few seconds watching Kagami’s face turn an embarrassing shade of red before he thinks to jerk his gaze away, his own cheeks feeling warm. They’re acting like two overgrown children with crushes, only _worse,_ and he curses all the gods he knows (and then Kagami too, just because) for putting him in this situation.

His eyes fall on the gym bag by the other’s feet, and from the way the side of is bulging out, he knows there’s a ball tucked away inside of it.

_Huh. Come to think of it..._

“Hey, you have a ball in your bag, yeah?” he asks.

Kagami blinks at him and tilts his head. “Yeah, I was gonna shoot some hoops at the school gym but Coach saw me and banned me from entering. Why?”

 _Thank god this idiot is a basketball idiot,_ Daiki thinks with a snort as he pushes out of the booth and stands. “C’mon then.” He turns away, not bothering to check whether Kagami’s following.

There are steps behind him as they cross the street, and when they turn the corner into the street court, he hears Kagami gasp.

“Are we playing?” he asks, sounding so obviously excited about the prospect of it that Daiki can’t help the smirk from slipping on his lips.

“Yeah, well, you still have to properly win those shoes you’re wearing. Think you can do it this time?” Daiki says over his shoulder, and as expected, Kagami explodes into offended sputtering.

It’s just like what he predicted will happen last night, and yet somehow this is infinitely more preferable than the tense atmosphere earlier where they trip over their words and pretend that they aren’t sneaking glances at each other.

Yeah, he much rather have this, them facing each other on the court, a basketball between them and eyes on each other’s, focused and never wavering.

**

“One… _haaaa…_ more game…” Kagami says before he collapses into the ground in a heap of sweaty clothes and spread out limbs.

“Are you… an idiot…” Daiki says through the lungfuls of air he’s taking. His hands are braced on his knees, and it’s all he can do to stay on his feet and not end up on the floor like Kagami. It would’ve been undignified if he, the winner of _all_ their matches, looks as winded as he definitely feels.

Kagami heaves a couple of deep breaths, and Daki feels smug about that, because though his team may be the champion, Daiki still beat him soundly on one-on-one. He shoots him a glare, though he can’t muster much heat through his heavy huffing and puffing. “Who are you… callin’ an idiot… you… you _Aho_ mine.”

That makes him splutters in outrage, and it also gives him the energy to stand upright and drag his jelly-like feet forwards. “Oi, what did you call me, _Baka_ gami?” he grumbles, kicking lightly at the other’s ribs.

Kagami rolls with the motion at first, protesting loudly, and when he’s had enough abuse he grabs at Daiki’s raised shoe and pushes, _gently,_ but he’s currently weak-kneed enough that he loses balance, topples backwards, and lands on his ass anyway.

“OW what the hell? Bastard, I’m gonna kick your face!”

 _“Buhahahaha_ y-you should’ve… seen… _your_ f-face! I can’t _—gahahha—_ breathe!” Kagami wheezes as he curls up on his side and clutches his stomach, his laughter breaking around painful gasps of air that he definitely deserves, the jerk.

Still, Daiki hurls curses at him and kicks his side again for good measure because damn that _hurt_.

When Kagami finally catches his breath and Daiki has ran out of witty insults, they settle into another moment of silence, only this one is peaceful, devoid of any drop of the awkwardness from before. And for once they don’t feel the niggling urge to speak or make small talk, content in relaxing and riding out the rush of adrenaline in their veins and simply basking in the brush of cool air over their heated skin.

This is the most comfortable Daiki’s been in Kagami’s presence. And he wonders what it says about them that they can only get to this point through bantering and roughhousing and playing ball until they — literally — dropped _._ He can almost hear Tetsu say, _“You two are really just basketball idiots aren’t you?”_

Well, apparently, they are.

It takes a couple more minutes for his breath to even out, and he’s just about to haul his ass back up and find a gallon of water to drink when Kagami speaks.

“Hey Aomine.”

“What?”

No response. He turns his head, and beside him Kagami’s eyes are closed, face and body lax that for a moment Daiki thinks he has fallen asleep. But then he sits up and turns to face him, fixing Daiki with his intent and red gaze.

“Let’s play again soon,” he says, and grins.

And it’s that grin again. Wide and bright and Daiki can’t look away again and —

 _Fuck_ he can only keep it locked away for so long. In this very moment, it’s okay to admit it, right? It’s not like they’re committing to anything more than _that._ That word, that bond, that thing which makes him hear every lie in his head, make every gaze and touch burn and —

“Hey Kagami.”

“Yeah?”

Daiki leans up from his slouch, doesn’t let himself look away even as his palms turn clammy and something — nerves, unpleasant feelings, insecurity, doubt — coils tight in his chest he feels like he can’t breathe.

“You’re my soulmate,” he says, not as a question, but a statement. An acknowledgement.

Silence for a few seconds, then, “...Yeah, I am. You have a problem with that?” Kagami says, eyes narrowed and voice raised in a defiant pitch, like he’s ready to fight him if he so much as says ‘yes’.

And Daiki laughs. A real one. A genuinely happy one that makes his shoulders shake and the edges of his eyes burn, the tight coil in his chest unspooling as relief floods into him like an overwhelming wave, wraps around him like a pleasantly warm blanket.

And it stays with him, the warmth, even as he smirks and says, “Eh. I can do worse. Hey Kagami.”

“...W-what?” he stutters, and Daiki’s feeling too giddy to question why Kagami’s face has turned red.

“So……… you’re really scared of dogs?”

“GEH — ! Shut up!”

Daiki finds himself shoved backwards, and as he falls into a graceless sprawl on the ground, his laughter bubbles out of him for the second time, the sound just as loud, just as freeing as before.

And here, right now, under the slowly darkening sky… As he listens to Kagami hiss and grumble about fanged beasts from hell, as the air soon gets too cold for comfort and he demands Kagami buy him Maji for losing, as he gapes at the huge stack of burgers on Kagami’s tray and wonders loudly where it all goes, as he stands at the crosswalk where they’re about to part ways for the day, as Kagami says _‘Goodnight, Aomine. See ya,’_ and he replies _‘Yeah. See ya’,_ and as Kagami, _his soulmate_ , smiles and turns away, Daiki can finally say it.

That he is finally, definitely happy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all can see how much I didn't give a rat's ass about the Rakuzan match lmaoo coz it was fucking ridiculous. Anyway...
> 
> GAHHHHHHHH I did it. It's finally out!! The scene with the proposal shoes was actually the very idea that started this whole fic and I was damn excited to finally get it written. ToT Actually, lots of the stuff here I've been planning since the beginning, so it's nice that I actually got to write it instead of just thinking about it.
> 
> Anyway (again)... hope you guys enjoyed? *hides*


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